


When Lena Met Reign

by CSIGurlie07



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, ReignCorp, but not a spite ship, hints of unrequited supercorp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-12-08 22:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11656254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSIGurlie07/pseuds/CSIGurlie07
Summary: When Kara bails on another meet up with Lena, someone new steps up to improve Lena's evening. Kara is still trying to process the aftermath of the invasion, and the tensions that arise in her friendship with Lena. In other words, how the teased 'special connection' between Lena and Reign might happen in Season 3.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a spite ship. Basically, I was watching all the trailers and hints for Season 3 that came out of SDCC, and this is my attempt to put it all together into something I would like to see onscreen. With Lena and Kara both hurting, this fic hints at some unrequited Supercorp, but ultimately I wanted to examine how Lena and Kara's friendship might shift and strain with the addition of a new player.

* * *

 

Lena’s fingernails tapped tersely on the surface of the bar. A full dinner crowd filled the restaurant, surrounding her with the buzz of low voices and silverware clinking against china plates. Lena checked her watch again, then searched the crowd congregating at the host’s station, looking for any sign of Kara. Their reservation had been for fifteen minutes ago, but at least this time Kara had texted to say she was running late. For the restaurant to hold a table even that long was only because of Lena’s name, and a considerable tip slipped to the maitre’d. Still, Kara was nowhere to be found.

They hadn’t had a real get-together in months. Not since the invasion. Lena knew why. Mon-el was gone, because of a device Lena had made. Lena had also built the portal that brought the invasion to Earth in the first place, and the reason the lead-irradiator had been needed at all. Supergirl may have been the one to activate the device, but if Kara was going to blame anyone, it wouldn’t be the Girl of Steel. Lena understood-- she blamed herself too. It was part of the reason L-Corp had sponsored the park dedication earlier that week in Supergirl’s honor.

Of course, Lena hadn’t anticipated the explosion that interrupted the festivities. No one had been killed, but there’d been plenty of shaken spectators, herself included. Supergirl hadn’t arrived on the scene until after the city's emergency crews had gained control of the situation, and in her absence one of the press had snapped a photo of Lena-- of her helping at the site, face smudged with dirt and blood, but determined. It had accompanied an article in the National City Gazette detailing the events of the afternoon, highlighting how Lena had stayed to help emergency crews pass out water and emergency blankets, and the food she'd had catered in to feed everyone still left on site as the sun went down.

Maybe that was why Kara had reached out to her. Explosions had a way of bringing them together, after all. Either way, Lena wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. At the prospect of a night with her absent best friend, she would wait an hour if she needed to. Luckily, an hour wasn't needed. The door to the restaurant opened and Kara stepped inside. Their eyes met; Kara’s features spread into a familiar smile, prompting Lena’s mouth to lift in response. When Kara wrapped her arms around Lena in greeting, Lena felt the world click back into place.

“Hey!” Kara chirped brightly, pulling back to reveal an even wider grin.

“Hi,” Lena returned. “You made it!”

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry,” Kara apologized. She peeled off her coat and set it on the nearest chair, where Lena’s also draped. “Snapper had me working on revisions and I lost track of time.”

Lena grinned. “Good to see he hasn’t lost his usual charm.”

With Cat Grant back in town, Lena had hoped Carr's less pleasant qualities would curb slightly. It seemed not.

“Not a chance of that,” Kara confirmed. Her hands smoothed her skirt, eyes scanning the room around them as she spoke. “Having Cat back has helped though. She actually talks to me like a competent human being, so some of the other reporters have finally warmed up to me. Now we can all gripe about Snapper together.”

“Ah, see, that’s the drawback to being the boss...” Lena observed. “No one else at the top to complain about.” The maitre’d caught her eye over Kara’s shoulder. Lena gave them a nod before touching Kara’s elbow. “Our table is ready.”

The walk to the table took less than a minute, but somehow the short trip effectively doused the spark of easy conversation. By the time they sat, the silence between them had turned palpably awkward. Kara’s cell slid onto the table next to the gleaming silverware arranged at a her right hand. Lena’s phone remained in the pocket of her coat, draped over the back of her seat. A familiar disappointment settled on Lena’s shoulders as they placed their drink order and began to study the menu.

After a long moment, Lena swallowed the knot of anxiety building in her chest, and stiffly set her menu aside. “Kara.”

Blue eyes lifted to meet hers, and Lena almost quit right then and there. She'd sworn to herself she would let Kara be the one to bring up the invasion-- bring up Mon-el. Maybe she'd read too much into the silence, let the doubts and insecurity overwhelm her. But if she didn’t say it now-- when would she get another chance?

“Things have been…” Lena bit her lip. She didn’t know how things have been for Kara. She only knew how the distance between them ached, how the last-minute reschedules cut deeper and deeper with each recurrence. But this wasn’t about her. She changed track abruptly. “I just wanted to say I’m--”

As if on cue, Kara’s phone buzzed against the ivory tablecloth. Lena’s heart dropped before Kara even gave her an apologetic grimace. _Not again._

“Sorry,” Kara muttered, snatching up the device. “I just have to…”

Lena nodded, but Kara had already accepted the call. She tightened her jaw, biting back her disappointment while Kara exchanged tight words with whoever was on the other end. Their evening was over. Lena knew it even before Kara turned back to face her with false regret in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Kara offered, gathering her coat and purse. "Something's come up at work, I have to go..."

Lena plastered what she hoped was an understanding smile on her lips. "Of course," she returned, brushing off the ruined evening with a shrug. “I understand.”

"I'll text you later."

And then Kara disappeared, leaving Lena staring after her without another word. Lena inhaled, released it, then took another breath. There was little chance she’d be hearing from Kara tonight, or even tomorrow. Tears-- of frustration, she told herself, nothing more-- burned at the back of her eyes. As though to compound the hurt, the server returned a moment later, drinks in hand. Lena didn’t bother to tell him her date for the night had left. Instead she pulled out her own phone and started scrolling through emails as she nursed her wine. When the small script blurred on the screen, she set the phone aside, and focused on drinking.

"It's her loss."

Lena jerked in her seat, surprised by the unfamiliar voice standing at her shoulder. Alarm and irritation flared sharply at the woman standing too close, drink in hand. “Excuse me?”

The stranger grimaced at her sharp tone. “Sorry if I startled you," she said, smiling to soften her features. "I overheard what happened, and I'm sorry. It's her loss though. Any woman should be glad to have you as her dinner date."

Lena noted the drink in the woman’s hand-- Stella Artois-- and the black dress draped over a long form, but what interested her the most was the warm smile curling the woman’s lips. Despite her bold approach, a hint of nervous apprehension darkened her gaze. _Interesting_.

“Have we met?” Lena asked. Something about her felt vaguely familiar, but nothing clicked.

“I was at the dedication in Perennial Park this week,” the woman said. It didn’t help Lena place her, but then again explosions didn’t leave much brain power for remembering faces.

Lena allowed herself a smile. “I’m glad you made it out all right,” she offered. “I wish I could say the next one won’t be as eventful, but…” But one internet search would reveal her history of similarly botched attempts at public gatherings.

"But then you wouldn't be a Luthor."

The reference to her family didn’t surprise Lena. But the casual tone did. Her eyes flashed back to the woman’s face, and there was that same warm smile, without a hint of scorn or derision. The woman held her gaze, and when Lena didn’t dismiss her, she extended her hand.

“I’m Reyna. Reyna King.”

“You--you’re the one who took the picture!” Lena rose to her feet, taking Reyna’s hand with a sudden smile. “For the Gazette!”

Reyna grinned. “Guilty.”

“That was a great photo,” Lena told her. “I almost didn’t recognize myself. You certainly have a gift.”

“Thanks, but to be honest, having such a compelling subject made it easy.” Reyna glanced at Kara’s empty seat. “May I?”

Lena blinks, a flush rising to her cheeks. “Yes! Of course.”

“I’m relieved you recognize my name,” Reyna confessed, settling gracefully into the chair. “I’ve been itching to say hi since you got here, and hoped the picture would get me an in, but as soon as I mentioned it I realized how creepy it would be to try and explain if you didn't know who'd taken it.”

“Creepy? Please, I owe you an apology,” Lena countered, returning to her own seat and smoothing her skirt. “If I’d known the Gazette was going to run an issue like that, I would have warned you about the fallout.”

Reyna’s features creased into a smile. “You mean the deluge of job offers I’ve gotten from a dozen news outlets? Including Catco Magazine?” A sculpted eyebrow quirked up in a sly shrug. “I should be thanking you. I mean it, that image of you helping that woman up, with the dust and the everything… that was all you. I was just there.”

Lena eyed her, and watched a blush creep up Reyna’s neck. Reyna cleared her throat, diverting her attention to her beer glass, which she turned in tight circles against the tablecloth. “And even that was you too.”

“What was me?”

“The photo. Well, me taking it." Reyna laughed nervously. "It was my first live explosion, you know? The blast knocked me off my feet, and there was smoke and everyone was freaking out, _I_ was freaking out. God, my hands were shaking, and my heart was pounding. But the first thing I saw when the dust started to clear... was you.”

Her voice softened, and Lena found herself unable to look away. The soft lamplight of the restaurant caught Reyna's hair in a warm glow, and her face… it was so expressive, even lost in her recollection of events from that day.

“So there I was, watching you, and some part of me thought, if this woman-- the woman who was probably the target for the blast-- if _she_  could be so cool and collected, and stayed behind to help instead of being whisked off to safety… then what right did I have to be scared? So, I wasn't. And that gave me the calm to pick up my camera, and get to work."

Reyna’s gaze lifted, and Lena felt a jolt when their eyes met once more. No wonder her photograph had contained so many layers. She’d captured everything, from the security hovering at the edge of the frame, to Lena’s refusal to leave. To Lena, it hadn’t required any thought at all, but in the eyes of this woman, it had meant something.

Lena swallowed. “Still, the feedback hasn’t been all glowing, I know. I’m sorry if it’s caused any trouble for you.”

“I’ll take the naysayers any day if it gets me more exposure like the kind I’m getting now. Turns out the old adage is right-- if you want a bonafide career as a photojournalist, snap a hero.” Reyna smirked, taking a swallow of her beer. Her eyes never left Lena’s. “Jimmy Olsen made his name on Superman… looks like I’ll make mine on Lena Luthor.”

A soft quiet settled between them. Lena’s throat was completely dry, and no amount of wine seemed to make the slightest difference. She didn’t know what to say. Tonight was taking an odd turn, and she couldn’t say she altogether minded at all.

“Anyway, I stand by what I said,” Reyna stated, losing the wistfulness in her voice. At Lena’s confusion, she clarified. “I noticed your date left in a hurry. It’s her loss.”

Lena’s eyes widened. She quickly swallowed her wine, setting her glass aside before she sloshed any on her lap. “Oh, no! No, we’re not-- we’re just friends.” She gave a tight smile. “She’s been busy with work.”

"Busier than the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation with holdings in 23 countries?" Reyna's eyebrow lifted. "I find that hard to believe. And besides, in my experience if someone wants your company, they’ll make the time."

A defensive edge cut through Lena’s pleasant warmth. Though she was careful to keep her features schooled, Reyna immediately seemed to sense she’d struck a nerve. “I’m sorry,” she offered with a sigh. “It just reminded me of a friend I had back in Metropolis, who did the same thing to me for years. She didn't even seem to notice when I stopped calling her, and it hurt to realize she didn't value our friendship the way I did. _Still_ hurts, apparently.” She offered a grim smile, and Lena felt her hackles start to soften once more. "I'm probably just projecting. I'm sorry."

Lena lifted an eyebrow, but before she could respond the server returned. If he was surprised to see a different woman sitting with Lena, he didn't show it.

"Are you ladies ready to order?"

A jolt ran through Lena, and on a whim she turned to Reyna. "Have you eaten, Miss King?" Reyna shook her head no. Lena paused. A split second of doubt gripped her before she let it slide on past, giving a coy tilt of her head. "Would you care to join me?"

Reyna broke into a broad smile that dazzled in the light. "I'd love to."

They ordered quickly, and when the server vanished once more, Reyna folded her hands in her lap, reclining in her seat. “And please, call me Reyna.”

Lena gave a small nod. “You’re from Metropolis as well, Reyna?”

“I am. I was working for a subsidiary of the Daily Planet, fluff assignments mostly. I’d spent my entire life there, and then suddenly last year I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed a change, a big one.” Reyna twisted the bracelet on her wrist. “I started looking at National City, and a couple of places up the coast. The Gazette called, and I was on the next flight out.”

It wasn’t too different a story from Lena’s, honestly, though the impetus for Lena’s move was darker, and more urgent. Lena might have wanted to leave the city, but she certainly didn’t have the option to stay. Reyna’s move had a certain wistfulness to it-- as though she were a free spirit, drifting on the wind. Lena had never met anyone like that before. Even Kara, with her eternal optimism, was far too grounded to act on a mere whim.

"Do you miss it?" Reyna asked after a moment’s pause.

"Metropolis?" Lena clarified. Reyna nodded. "No, actually."

Admitting it felt almost like a surprise, and only further confirmed how little she’d had to tie her to Metropolis. There were certainly things she'd missed about it, like the frequent rain and perpetual cloud cover. She might have even missed a few people in the early days-- _Jack_ \--- but she didn’t miss the life she had there. Not when she’d come here and stumbled into a life far more fulfilling in National City.

"Me neither," Reyna confirmed with a radiant smile. Then she hesitated, doubling back. "But I do miss _Tupelo's_."

"Oh, my god, yesssss," Lena agreed with a moan. "Their tortellini..."

"Smoked salmon," Reyna supplied. "All the way."

Their conversation fell into an easy rhythm from there. Before Lena knew it, they'd finished both dinner and dessert, and the time came to yield their table to the next hungry party. On the sidewalk outside, Lena paused, turning to face Reyna.

"I have to say I wasn’t expecting my night to turn out this way,” Lena confessed. She felt a flush rise in her neck and shoulders, and told herself it was the chill of a crisp autumn evening. “But I’m glad it did. I had a lovely time.”

"Me too," Reyna said. She tucked her hands into the pocket of her long jacket. Everything about Reyna was long. Long legs, long arms, long fingers. Long patience as well, for putting up with a lonely Luthor for an entire evening.

"You know,” Reyna continued, “I’ve been here for a few months now and still haven’t really made any new friends. But I really enjoyed our time tonight. Would you be interested in maybe doing it again?"

Lena smiled, feeling something like happiness for the first time in months. "Yes, I would."

Reyna's features brightened. "Great!" She exhaled a whoosh of air. In an instant, the confident woman lounging in a restaurant morphed into a bundle of nerves. Lena’s heart lurched in an ominous wobble. "Awesome! Wow, okay. So, I'll see you later."

Lena nodded jerkily, taking a shaky breath. At least she wasn’t the only one feeling slightly off kilter. "Have a good night.”

"You too."

Lena watched Reyna go, and then turned and made her way north. Her apartment was only a few blocks away-- maybe that had been an unconscious factor when she'd suggested the restaurant to Kara, in anticipation that Kara might leave early. Just like that, her warm mood deflated. Another meet-up with Kara, dashed on the rocks. Another night she would go without Kara knowing she was sorry. Lena didn’t know how many more chances she’d get before Kara gave up entirely.

“Lena! Wait!"

Reyna's call stopped Lena in her tracks. She turned to find Reyna trotting after her. When she pulled to a stop in front of Lena, Reyna bowed slightly to reclaim her breath.

“I totally forgot to ask for your number!" she puffed, laughing.

Lena blinked, then burst out laughing when she realized it had slipped her mind as well. Reyna joined her, placing a breathless hand on her arm to brace herself.

"Sorry," Reyna gasped. "I am such an idiot." She pulled out her phone, pulling up a new contact bubble. "Here, if you give me your number, I'll text you right now so you'll have mine. Jesus..."

Lena rattled off her number, and a moment later a new text appeared on her phone from an unfamiliar number, with "Reyna King" in the message.

"Okay, now we're good," Reyna asserted. She heaved a deep breath. "Oh man! I do not run enough! Oof."

"Blame it on the heels," Lena advised with a chuckle. "That's what I do."

"That's... that's a good plan." Reyna panted. "Blame the patriarchy. I'm good with that."

"Do I need to call you an ambulance?" Lena teased.

Reyna laughed again, the sound bright and clear against the sounds of passing traffic. "I'm good, I'm good,” she waved off. “The cool, suave image I've been trying to project all evening, though... not so much."

Lena laughed again, cupping her hand against Reyna’s elbow to lend better stability. "Don’t worry,” she assured her. “Your secret is safe with me."

“Thanks.” Reyna gave her arm a squeeze. “Have a good night, Lena.” She flashed Lena one last smile before starting to back off, her gait now slightly uneven after having run in her heels. Lena grinned after her until a large party exiting the restaurant obscured her from view. Then she turned and resumed the short walk back to her apartment. She didn’t think about Kara again the entire rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

“Danvers!” Snapper’s gruff voice shattered Kara’s calm and immediately set her teeth on edge. “You still in Luthor’s hip pocket?”

Kara blinked. “Uh…” She adjusted her glasses. “Yes?”

Snapper eyed her. “No need to sound so confident there, ponytail.” Kara didn’t rise to the bait, and finally he huffed. “Are you up to speed on the Sanchez murder?”

She nodded. The death of an on-duty police officer was automatically something to keep an eye on. The fact that the cause of death didn’t seem to be from a human opponent had put the entire city on edge. Tensions had risen sharply after the Daxamite invasion, and now anti-alien figureheads called for L-Corp's proposed alien detection device. They used Officer Sanchez's murder to bolster their arguments, but L-Corp had remained out of the discourse. Lena and her company had yet to make any statement regarding the device since Kara's first article ran the year before. 

“Go see if our friendly neighborhood Luthor has a comment on what’s been playing out in the news,” Snapper instructed. Kara nodded, quickly gathering her things.

“You got it, boss.”

Kara pulled out her phone, fingers rapidly typing a message to Lena. She made it half way to sending before she noticed the date stamp on the last text in the window. Almost… no, _more_ than three weeks ago. The last message was hers, warning Lena she was running late. That-- that couldn’t be right. As she searched her memory, Kara didn’t find any hidden recollection of typing a now vanished text, but it did reveal the last words they’d shared in person.

_“I’ll text you later.”_

Kara had promised to contact Lena, but the chat window revealed the truth. They hadn’t spoken in weeks. Stomach churning, Kara abandoned her text and instead phoned their favorite lunch order in to Chang’s. A simple text wouldn’t do. Not this time. Guilt settled heavily in Kara’s chest as she walked to Chang’s then on to L-Corp. She double checked the date, and reconfirmed the math. Three weeks. It didn’t feel that long… but at the same time, she couldn’t clearly remember the last time they’d seen each other. It had been a restaurant, but she couldn’t remember which one. The Italian restaurant? Or had it been French?

By the time she reached the top floor of the L-Corp building, Kara’s insides tried to clamber up her throat. Jess’ desk was empty, for which Kara could only be grateful-- no matter how graciously Lena might brush off this slight, Jess surely wouldn’t, and the assistant’s sharp glare would have stabbed like a knife.

Kara fumbled with the large bags of food in her arms to free one hand to knock briefly as she let herself into Lena’s office. She felt uncoordinated, stiff, and not just from nerves at facing Lena after so long. The feeling of strangeness only compounded when she stepped not into a quiet office, but into a wave of delighted laughter. The scent of sweet aromatic spices filled Kara’s senses, wafting from an impressive array of food spread across the low table in front of the sofa. There Lena sat, knee to knee with a woman Kara didn’t recognize.

Something dark and nameless sparked deep in Kara's belly at the sight of Lena's features scrunched up with mirth, her hand casually resting on her visitor's knee as they laughed. A long moment passed before Lena seemed to notice Kara’s entrance.

“Kara!” Lena’s voice still bubble with laughter. Beside her, the strange woman broke into another round of giggles, which she quickly tried to cover with a napkin. Lena gave the knee under her hand a swat before she stood and rounded the coffee table to greet Kara, all smiles. "I didn't expect to see you today."

Kara swallowed, eyes flicking between Lena and her guest. She forced her mouth into a grin. "I thought I would surprise you with lunch..." The rest of her speech apology fell away. She didn’t want to admit her shortcomings in front of a stranger, especially one still laughing at a joke Kara had missed.

She passed her gaze over the remains of Lena's lunch, which smelled amazing and far outmatched the chinese quickly cooling in her arms. "It looks like someone already beat me to it."

Lena’s gaze traveled back to her guest. "Yes, Reyna has also seen fit to rescue me from the perils of my poor eating habits."

The visitor-- _Reyna_ \-- rose to her feet, smiling prettily. "Lena mentioned that she often skips lunch, which of course I took as a challenge." Reyna shared a glance with Lena before extending her hand to Kara. "Hi. You must be Kara Danvers. I've heard a lot about you."

Kara accepted the handshake, leaning slightly to leverage the bags onto one arm to free a hand long enough to clasp palms with Reyna. She fought the urge to fidget her glasses, sliding at furtive glance towards Lena. "You've been talking about me?"

Lena’s expression didn’t change, but her mood sure did. The mirth fell away behind her smile, and her head titled ever so slightly to match the crinkle that formed between her eyebrows.

“No,” Lena said, just a hair slower than her usual cadence. Reyna didn’t seem to notice, but Kara did. “This is Reyna King. She took that photo of me for the Gazette.”

Kara's lips parted. "Oh."

"I'd love to stay longer," Reyna said, interrupting what was quickly becoming an awkward exchange. "But I actually have to get back to work." She turned to face Lena. "I'm warning you, Lena. You're on notice. Skipping lunch is bad for your health."

"As I have been reminded since I got here," Lena returned smoothly. She and Reyna exchanged a quick tight hug that made Kara look away in discomfort. "Thank you so much for lunch. It was a lovely surprise."

"Any time.” Her hand caught on Lena’s wrist, the grip soft and gentle as it slid to clasp Lena’s hand. “We still on for drinks at Glow tonight?"

"Absolutely," Lena confirmed with a ruby smile. Her fingers gave Reyna’s a short squeeze. "Can't wait."

Reyna collected her coat and bag, sparing Kara a warm glance as she fluffed her hair over her collar. “It was nice to meet you, Kara. I hope next time we’ll have time to chat longer. I’d love to hear more about how you broke up that alien fight ring. There’s a bet going on over at the Gazette I’d love to bust.”

And then with one last grin to Lena, Reyna was gone. By the time Kara turned back around, Lena was busy closing up food containers, stacking them up and eventually depositing them in the trash bin. For several long moment, the only sound was the rustle of plastic bags and the snap of lids closing on leftovers.

"She seems nice."

Lena looked up, eyes crinkling with a smile. "Yeah, she’s great, isn’t she?”

With the leftover bins wrapped up neatly into two plastic bags, Lena turned and placed them in a small refrigerator disguised as a cabinet. Kara stared.

“How long have you had a fridge in here?” she asked.

“Since I moved in,” Lena replied easily, snapping the door closed.

“Oh.” Kara set the food on the cleared table. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“We’ve never had leftovers,” Lena returned with an easy smile as she passed Kara, returning to her desk.

Kara hid her flush by turning to set her bags down on the freshly cleared coffee table. She rarely felt self-conscious at finishing anything Lena couldn’t, but after meeting Reyna King… she suddenly did. Did Lena prefer leftovers? She’d never mentioned it before, but now that Kara thought about it, leftovers in the hidden office fridge would give Lena easy access to dinner if she had to work late.

"And how-- when did you meet?" Kara amended, pushing her glasses higher on her nose. She turned to face Lena, who sat silhouetted in the early afternoon sun, opening her laptop and pulling a sheaf of papers towards her.

“We met the night you had to leave early from dinner. She came and introduced herself shortly after you left, and we hit it off.” Lena paused, lifting her gaze to meet Kara’s. “It was a little unexpected,” she elaborated, a faint flush rising in her cheeks, “but I’m glad I met her. I was a little worried at first, given her connection to the Gazette, because I figured meeting more than one member of the press wanting to be friends was unlikely, but… She hasn’t asked for anything but my time, and even then we hardly ever talk about work. It’s been kind of refreshing, you know?”

Suddenly Lena blinked, as though realizing she’d been rambling. Her blush deepened, turning her skin splotchy with embarrassment. “Oh, God, listen to me! How bad is it that I’ve gotten so excited over a new friend? I’m sorry for babbling.”

Kara kept silent. She knew next to nothing of this woman, and yet somehow _friend_ didn’t seem to be the right fit for Reyna.

"Anyway,” Lena continued, “I feel bad you brought all that food. I wish you'd texted so I could warn you we had food already."

"What? Oh, no," Kara scoffed. She flapped her hand, waving it off. "Don't worry about it. It’ll get eaten either way. No biggie.” That earned a smile from Lena, and Kara realized she assumed Kara would eat it all herself-- which she did intend, but suddenly felt less okay admitting it.

"So," Lena prompted when the quiet between them lingering an extra moment. She leaned forward on her elbows, focusing her attention entirely on Kara, despite the work spread out in front of her. "What can I do for you?"

This time Kara was the one to tilt her head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Oh!" Lena blinked. A surprised little smile warmed her features. "Sorry, I assumed you were here for a quote."

Kara froze. She covered quickly by adjusting her glasses and rummaging in her purse for her pad and paper. Lena didn’t often beat her to the punch for interviews, and Kara rarely let it slip her mind like it did today. She wished she could blame the impromptu meeting, but that wasn’t it. Since when had Lena gone back to associating Kara’s visits with interviews? A long time ago their time together had been just that-- together, without any outside prompting. Their visits had long since stopped feeling so transactional. Until now.

"I am, actually" Kara confessed, pulling out her tools. From the corner of her eye she saw Lena’s smile dim, before stretching into a grin too wide. Part of her recoiled at the sight of it. Maybe a texted apology would have been better after all. Now there was no room for it in the face of the interview-- any attempt she made now would feel insincere.

By the time Kara took a seat in one of the visitor chairs, Lena’s expression was bright and cheery. Had she not seen the glimmer of disappointment a moment before, Kara would never know it had been there. The dark resentment she’d felt at the sight of Reyna King suddenly turned inward-- had Lena’s disappointment been there behind all her smiles? Kara couldn’t say for sure. Not when she couldn’t even remember which restaurant she’d left early the night Lena and Reyna met.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "We’re covering the city’s reaction to the death of an NCPD officer in the lower wards near the docks,” Kara began. Falling into reporter mode was more familiar than trying to examine the new emotions churning uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach. “The wards have long been home to a significant alien population, and tension has grown since the police released information indicating that the officer’s wounds were made by someone other than human. Many people are calling for the anti-alien device you prototyped last year, claiming its widespread use would have prevented the officer’s death and assisted in the subsequent hunt for his killer. Since L-Corp hasn’t shared any additional information since that initial article ran, CatCo’s readers want to know whether there’s been any new developments, and whether you feel its use may have prevented the officer’s death as others are claiming."

Finally, Kara looked up from her notepad, and found that Lena’s perfect expression had faltered. Her smile had fallen away, and the corners of her eyes pinched sharply. She rolled her pen between the pads of her fingers, tension leaking out of her.

"The _alien detection_ device you’re referring to," Lena clarified, placing her emphasis with deliberate care, "was never marketed to be anti-alien. It was never intended to be a tool for those who advocate violence against others.”

Kara scribbled in her notepad, though the note she made was indecipherable. It was an excuse to pull her gaze away from Lena, but didn't silence the sound of Lena's intake of breath, preparing to either ask her own question or continue her defense of the stalled device, but Kara’s phone buzzed loudly before she could say another word. It was a text from Alex, alerting her to the appearance of a Cthalonian just outside the city. Kara quickly dashed off an acknowledgement, then realized the office was still quiet. Lena waited for Kara to finish.

“Sorry,” Kara muttered quickly. She turned off the screen and returned the phone to her lap.

“As for the officer's death,” Lena resumed, “it is my understanding that the police are still investigating the events leading to the altercation that took his life. Until more information is released, I'm afraid I can't comment on what may or may not have mitigated the outcome of that evening."

Kara’s phone buzzed again, but Kara let it sit. She kept her focus on Lena as best she could, though already her thoughts started to wander. If the Cthalonian was nearing the city, it could cause a lot of damage. Interview now, quickly, a voice reminded her. Then you can focus on Supergirl.

"But it's true that no new details have been shared regarding the development of the device. Following the Daxamite invasion, there's been renewed interest in the technology you proposed. Do you have anything you'd like to share on that front?"

Kara’s lap buzzed once more, this time with a chirp insisting it was urgent. Lena paused, drawing back in her seat in silent acquiescence. Kara huffed, then opened her phone to dash off a response. “Sorry,” she said quickly.

“Maybe we should do this later,” Lena suggested.

“No! No, it’s just Alex, she…” Kara fished for a plausible lie, even as her fingers continued to type. “She’s agonizing over cake.”

Lena’s brow furrowed. “Cake.”

“Yeah, you know, for the wedding. Like, they haven’t thought about anything else yet, but apparently the cake is the one thing they cannot wait on--”

“Your sister is getting married?”

Kara froze, realizing at the same time as Lena that she hadn’t actually shared the news of Alex’s engagement to Maggie. And in that same moment, Kara knew there was no excuse. Not like the lack of texting, or the meetings cancelled or cut short. Those were sacrificed for the sake of being Supergirl, for saving lives and preventing damage to the city. That excuse didn't fly when the news of the wedding was so old-hat Kara just used it as a lie.

Lena lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes falling to the papers in front of her. She didn’t mention the wedding any further. “You were curious about our alien detection device?”

Kara latched onto the out she offered. “Yes! Yes, the detection device. Has there been any changes in its development since the initial news you shared with CatCo readers last year?”

Again, Lena opened her mouth to respond, and again, the buzzing of Kara’s phone interrupted her. This time, Lena’s mask cracked, and irritation leaked through. “Would you like to get that?”

“No! No, it’s fine. It can wait,” Kara said quickly, desperate to not cut this meeting short, even though the Cthalonian had just crossed city limits. _Be there soon,_ she texted back.

“...off the record?”

Lena had continued to speak, and Kara had missed most of it. But she gamely nodded, shutting her phone down and tucking it into her pocket. “Of course,” she agreed readily.

She focused her attention back onto Lena, whose chin had ducked as she studied the pen twisting between her fingers. "We're shelving the detection device."

Kara blinked in surprise. "Really?" Lena nodded. Kara pushed her glasses higher on her nose. "Wow. That’s... a surprising shift in position."

"Is it?"

Green eyes stared softly at her, heavy with a seemingly innocuous question. Aware of the urgent messages piling up on her silenced phone, Kara pushed on.

"Well, yes," she returned. "Last time we discussed it, you were adamant that people had a right to know whether their neighbors were human. That, and the lucrative prospects for selling the device to high demand. Given the interest now, L-Corp stands to make a considerable profit."

"I used it, you know.” Lena shifted the conversation into new territory, and the quiet tenderness in her voice told Kara she knew she tread on treacherous ground. The invasion. Rhea. _Mon-el_.

"When Rhea approached me about the transmat portal,” Lena continued, “she said some things that made me wonder, so I asked her to scan her finger. And it worked, exactly how it was supposed to. But confirming she was an alien didn’t help me make the decision to trust her. I made that choice on my own, and for better or worse, the detection device had no effect on the events that followed.”

Lena lifted her gaze to meet Kara’s, and for a moment Kara was petrified that she was about to apologize. For the portal, for allowing Rhea to gain a foothold on Earth-- for the lead device that made the atmosphere toxic to Daxamites, that made Mon-el choke and wheeze, not even allowing them the decency of a proper goodbye. As though sensing Kara’s panic, Lena shook her head, returning to business.

“Given the rising tensions following the Daxamite invasion, I'm convinced that releasing the device would only lead to rise in anti-alien violence. I cannot in good conscience begin sales with so many innocent lives at risk. It’s possible we can refine the device to identify alien species in medical environments to aid treatment and  I have my people looking into ways we can adapt it further to other humanitarian purposes. But the technology as it currently exists will not be released to the public for the foreseeable future."

Kara scribbled furiously as Lena spoke. As her pen made quick, hurried strokes, the uneasiness of the almost-apology faded. This was easy. Doing her job was easy. Easier than seeing Mon-el disappear in her pod, easier than seeing Lena being so carefree with a stranger when she could barely look at Kara now… Being a reporter was a familiar groove. This was better.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to provide you juicier sound bites for your article,” Lena said, her voice suddenly crisp. The interview was over, and Kara nodded in acceptance. She might still be able to catch the Cthalonian before it did any major damage. “I have to say a police investigation isn't usually what Snapper sends you to collect for."

Kara smiled lightly with a shrug. "I think he's stung by the fact the Gazette scooped us on that photo from the dedication. You've been good to Catco, and he’s gotten used to us having the inside track."

Lena gave a faint nod. Then her intercom buzzed, and Jess’ voice traveled cross the line. “Miss Luthor, your two o’clock has arrived.”

“Thank you, Jess, just a moment.” Lena rose from her seat, and Kara followed suit, collecting her things. "It was good to see you, Kara." She smiled. “I hope you stop by again soon.”

“Me too,” Kara returned. Even as she said it, it felt like a lie. She pulled her purse strap over her head and paused to collect her bags of food, now cooled. Just as her fingers hit the doorknob, the sound of Lena’s voice made her pause.

“Kara.”

She turned, and met Lena’s solemn gaze. “I don’t gossip about the people I care about.” She hugged a folder report to her chest, her hurt palpable in a rare moment of unguarded honesty. “I haven’t told Reyna anything--”

“It’s okay.” Kara plastered on a smile. “I didn’t realize who she was. I shouldn’t have assumed.” Lena’s eyebrow lifted ever so slightly, making her seem suddenly years younger, uncertain. Kara turned to leave, then paused again. “Movie night this week?"

Lena's gaze warmed, and suddenly the Lena Kara knew so well was back in full force. "I'd love to. Let me know when you're free, and--"

"How about tonight?"

Lena’s smile froze, then smoothed into an expression that was carefully neutral. Sharp eyes regarded Kara carefully. "I already have plans for this evening," Lena said slowly. "Which you just heard.” Her brow furrowed in consternation. “Kara, what--"

"Right, of course! Sorry!” Kara gave a tight laugh, finally opening the door. "Sorry, I'm just a little scattered this week. Thanks for meeting with me."

She escaped into the antechamber of Lena's office, snapping the door shut behind her before Lena could respond. The Chinese went in the trash on her way out of the building, and Supergirl pummeled the Cthalonian into submission less than five minutes later. If Alex or any of the other DEO agents noticed that she was unusually sloppy, or unusually forceful, they didn't say, and Kara certainly didn't share that the reason for her rage was a photojournalist named Reyna King and the way her fingers had lingered on Lena's wrist.


	3. Chapter 3

Lena struggled to put Kara’s visit from her mind. Mentioning Rhea had been a mistake-- one she’d known going in, but hadn’t seen any other way to convince Kara her change of heart regarding the detection device was genuine. Seeing Kara’s smile slip when Lena was on the verge of apologizing, and glimpsing the tightly coiled anger lurking beneath had shaken Lena. It came as no surprise at this point, but the confirmation that Kara blamed her for Mon-el's loss left Lena feeling as though the floor had dropped out from under her.

Her stomach twisted into knots through the rest of her afternoon meetings, until Lena left the office around eight. Walking home gave her time to put the visit and Kara from her mind, and make room for a new anxiety: her upcoming evening with Reyna. They’d agreed to meet outside the club around ten o’clock, giving Lena plenty of time to agonize over her outfit, her makeup, and most of all-- whether tonight was meant to be a date.

Neither of them had discussed what they expected from tonight, or from their budding friendship itself. Lena sensed Reyna might want more. She marked every wayward brush of Reyna’s fingers against hers at lunch, and the stolen glances when Reyna thought she wasn’t looking. They made Lena feel wanted, and a year ago, Lena might have been absolutely certain of Reyna’s interest, but not anymore. Not after having seen so many of the same clues from Kara. Kara, who’d had a boyfriend for most of the time Lena had known her.  

Some of Lena’s uncertainty fell away outside Glow, when she spotted Reyna near the front of the line to get in, and more still when Reyna’s jaw dropped open ever so slightly at the sight of her. Lena smirked. Tonight’s outfit hadn’t left her closet in years, and clearly Reyna hadn’t expected the plunging neckline or the top that left much of her back exposed. The figure Lena cut in the mirror had been one she barely recognized, but it had met her nebulous criteria for the night-- that she would impress if not Reyna, then anyone else who spotted her. The fact that she’d succeeded didn’t feel the same as it used to.

Eyes followed Lena as she approached the line, and each stare stabbed like a knife. It set her on edge, made her nervous in a way it never had before. She narrowed her focus to Reyna alone, and found her reassurance in the discrete scan of Reyna’s gaze, and the soft flush almost disguised by the haze of neon and the shadows of night.

“Hi!” Reyna chirped, shaking herself out of her stare as Lena moved closer. She grinned, even as her eyes continued to look Lena up and down.

"Hi,” Lena returned. She took her own time appreciating Reyna’s silver glitter dress, which exposed her long legs and slender arms, hugging her figure. She swallowed thickly. “You clean up nice, Miss King.”

Reyna flushed, her grin deepening at being caught ogling. “I don’t know why I thought you’d show up in something business appropriate, but apparently I did because I was not prepared for _this._ ” She gestured to all of Lena. “Wow!”

Lena laughed. “I could wear this to work, but if your reaction is anything to go by, productivity would grind to a halt.”

She wanted to ask if it was too much. Reyna looked at home in her own dress, leaving Lena to feel as though her outfit was wearing her instead of the other way around. As though she were trying too hard to be someone who didn’t exist anymore. The question remained locked tight in her throat. Lena might have asked Kara, and been reasonably certain that her answer would be what Lena needed to hear. She wouldn’t ask Reyna. Lena could be this person again, at least for the night.

Reyna looped her arm through Lena’s. “You definitely want to keep this outfit far away from the boardroom. I’ve seen some of the old guys you work with and they would not survive the experience, let me tell you.”

“Thanks, I think,” Lena laughed. Reyna’s arm was warm in hers, and this close, Lena could detect the scent of her perfume, delicate and floral.

“You ready for tonight, Lena?”

“I haven’t done this since college,” she confessed. “So I’m prepared to feel like the oldest person in there, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Reyna had talked her into it, though Lena hadn’t needed much convincing to go out and take a break from the business. She’d stopped going to clubs when Lex was arrested--- it simply hadn’t been safe enough to do so. And when she became CEO, the time spent at a club didn’t yield enough of a payoff to justify the time away from L-Corp. But time at a club with Reyna? That was a completely different story. That, Lena could easily justify.

“This place is great. You’ll love it,” Reyna promised. “And if you don’t, you can just hang with me all night.”

“Oh, well, in that case.” But Lena’s stomach churned. Did that mean Reyna _hadn’t_ meant to spend all night with her? Maybe not a date then. Lena bit back a sigh of frustration. She should have just asked Reyna outright, but as soon as they stepped inside the club, the pulsing music precluded any attempt at conversation. It took Lena a good minute to adjust to the EDM throbbing against her ears, before it started to sound like music rather than noise. Reyna led her inside towards the bar. She nodded to the bartender, who glanced at Lena and grinned back. Clearly, Reyna was no stranger to Glow.

They shouted their orders over the music, and while they waited Lena turned to lean her elbows back against the bar as she scanned the rest of the club. In between the shadows and flashing neon lights Lena saw far more women than men; many were there in pairs or more, but more than a few appeared to be alone, scanning the club as she was. One caught her eye, and alarm jolted through Lena as though caught playing hooky. A Luthor, having fun? She braced herself for the inevitable outrage, but the woman merely smiled, lifting her chin in wordless acknowledgement.

The color drained from Lena’s face in shock-- or maybe her blood suddenly raced into it. Her cheeks tingled, and Lena averted her gaze, barely able to return the woman’s nod. Reyna smacked her arm gently, turning to mimic Lena’s recline against the bar. “See, there you go! No mobs, no pitchforks.”

“ _Yet_ ,” Lena muttered, too low for Reyna to hear.

“I told you tonight would be fun!”

The bartender plunked their drinks down on the bar behind them. “Here you go ladies! Enjoy!”

They raced another group of women to a small booth that opened up just as they left the bar. Lena dropped onto the vinyl seat after Reyna, taking a long sip of her drink to calm her nerves. Reyna said hello to a few familiar faces who stopped by, and Lena let herself be introduced, smiling politely but not hearing any names over the burble of voices and music pressing in around her.

As Lena finished her first drink, the woman who met her gaze at the bar appeared at their table. She gave another chin bob, this time to Reyna, before asking Lena for a dance. Lena froze, until Reyna gave a whoop and prodded her out of their hard-won booth. “Go for it!”

And so Lena went, trying not to feel disappointed as she and her dance partner found a place on the dance floor. The beat of the music quickly woke Lena’s muscles, and before long she swayed and bounced to the rhythm, letting the press of bodies guide her tempo and disguise any falter of muscles stiff from disuse. The woman in front of her smiled as Lena loosened up and got into the swing.

This was easy. This was what she’d liked most about clubs like this. Belonging, without needing to explain who she was or what she wanted. One among many, indistinguishable from the crowd. As one song shifted into another, Lena’s eyes drifted back to where Reyna sat in the booth, watching. For a split second, amid the fog billowing lazily between them, their eyes met. Lena expected Reyna’s easy grin to return, maybe another blush at being caught staring again. Instead, Reyna simply held her gaze, eyes bright with desire, and waited.

Lena hadn’t been so off-base as she’d thought. She let a slow smile curl her lips, and tilted her head in invitation. The sparkles on Reyna’s dress glittered in the low light as she rose and wove her way between tables and bodies towards the dance floor. She found the beat as she walked, and her eyes never once left Lena. As she stepped onto the dance floor, Lena reached out her hand and pulled Reyna close.

Their bodies pulled flush together, Lena felt the last of her tension bleed away. Reyna’s perfume washed over her, undercut with sweat and alcohol. Their eyes held, glinting in the strobe that kicked on when the beat dropped. This…. This was easy.

Reyna’s hand lifted, drawing Lena’s arm over her head. Lena responded readily, turning in place until Reyna pressed against her back, one hand going to Lena’s hip. The other trailed a slow path down Lena’s raised arm, igniting a line of fire in its wake. Lena felt the rest of the world melt out of mind, until there was only music, light and Reyna. Reyna’s hair under Lena’s hand when she bent her elbow to reach behind her. Reyna cheek brushing Lena’s ear. Reyna’s fingers lacing between hers, before moving to grip both of Lena’s hips, then gliding down to Lena’s thighs as they continued to move in sync, effortlessly.

A new song started, and Lena used the shift to turn back and face Reyna. This track pulsed slower, but louder than the previous track. Lena felt every beat in her bones, and every grind of Reyna’s hips against hers shot electricity through Lena from stem to stern. They continued to dance, bumping with the beat, and Lena’s focus narrowed to the sweat beading on Reyna’s upper lip, in the hollow of her throat, every puff of breath past her lips until Reyna’s hand cupped the back of her neck, fingers tangling in the strands of hair plastered against Lena’s sweat-slicked skin.

Lena lifted her gaze, and met Reign’s half-lidded gaze, flickering down to Lena’s lips and back. The song started to whine, the rhythm speeding towards a climax. Lena’s heart kept time to match. When Reyna leaned in, pausing just shy of a kiss, Lena didn’t stop to think. She closed the distance, pressing her lips to Reyna’s as the beat dropped, and let her world implode.

* * *

When they stumbled out of the club hours later, Lena still buzzed with adrenaline and excitement. She stumbled on the pavement, more from the sudden lack of beat than the fading effects of the alcohol in her system. Reyna bumped into her, nearly turning an ankle before Lena steadied her.

“You okay?” Lena asked, giggling. Her forehead touched briefly against Reyna’s jaw, and she let herself linger there. Her cheeks felt as though they would split from smiling so wide, but she couldn’t wipe the grin from her face even if she wanted to.

“Yeah!” Reyna answered through a laugh. She paused, regaining her equilibrium. “I haven’t danced that much since--”

A sudden burst of light filled their vision, blinding them. The camera flash instantly snapped Lena out of her happy daze. She turned to the offending photographer, who merely grinned at her sudden glare and snapped another picture of them.

“Cheers, ladies.”

As he sauntered off in search of other targets among the other patrons starting to filter out of Glow, Lena released a breath of annoyance. Instinctively, she gave herself a once-over. Her outfit was tidy enough and she wasn’t drunk. All things considered, things could have been far worse.

“Shit,” Reyna cursed. She ran a hand through her hair. She licked her lips nervously, and Lena felt the wildest urge to kiss her again. “Is that going to cause problems for you?”

Lena smiled. “I was outed the day I turned eighteen. He’s going to be disappointed his scoop is almost a decade old.” There had been plenty of speculation before her birthday, but as soon as she turned legal the paparazzi had gone feral, printing anything and everything they’d previously hesitated to print while she was a minor.

Being long-time associates of the Luthor family, the board couldn’t be bothered by tabloid pictures unless they implied she lacked good judgement. Given her current state, the only scoop that photographer had gotten was that she was out past curfew on a weeknight. Maybe it was news after all, considering it was the first night out she’d had since moving to National City.

Lena paused, smile fading a little as she reached out to cup Reyna’s elbow. “You?”

“No, it’s okay. I mean, I don’t advertise it, but it’s not a secret.”

After a moment, Lena slid her arm around Reyna’s waist, ostensibly to steady her friend who’d had a little more to drink than Lena. Reyna didn’t protest. She leaned into Lena’s hold comfortably. Together they made their way across the street. They didn’t speak until they were in the town car and Reyna gave the driver her address. When they settled in for the ride, Reyna’s hand remained firmly in Lena’s. Lena’s heart pounded so heavily she was certain Reyna could feel it through their clasped palms, but when they pulled up to Reyna’s apartment block, she seemed just as nervous as Lena.

“Thanks for the ride,” Reyna said softly, hooking her hair behind one ear. She bit her lip uncertainly. She took a breath as though to speak, but seemed to think better of it, grinning sheepishly instead. Lena tried to fill the silence just as Reyna moved.

“I--”

Reyna’s lips pressed against Lena’s cheek, stealing Lena’s breath away. It ended too brief a moment later, though Reyna's hand lingered where it gently cupped Lena's jaw. Lena stared, a surprised smile curling her lips.

Reyna smiled at her. “Have a good night, Lena.”

And then she was gone, the door shutting behind her with a dull thud. Lena slumped back in her seat as the car slid back into motion, this time heading for her own apartment. Her cheeks tingled, even as she silently scolded herself. She ran a multi-billion dollar international company; how her chest could flutter like a teenager’s was beyond her.

“Did you have a good time tonight, Miss Luthor?” Gregory asked from the driver’s seat. His eyes twinkled in the rear-view mirror. Lena broke into another surprised smile.

“You know, I think I did,” she replied quietly. “I really think I did.”

* * *

The next morning, Lena stopped for coffee at the small street stand a few blocks from L-Corp. She spotted her own face on the cover of a cheesy tabloid residing on the lower shelves of the news offerings. Of course it would have been _TMI_ that caught them last night. Still, she snagged a copy and added it to her order, fishing out a few extra dollars to pay for it. Luis saw it and smiled.

“It is a nice photograph,” he commented, handing over her coffee and accepting the five she handed him.

“Thanks, Luis,” Lena returned. “Keep the change.”

She agreed with him, Lena realized as she studied the photograph. It gave no hint at the stumble that had preceded the flash. She and Reyna both smiled, with Lena leaning in perhaps a little too close, and Reyna’s hand on her arm. Even their lipsticks hadn’t smudged. They simply looked like two people having fun. Then she saw the headline below their chins, and laughed.

She called Reyna, who answered with a groan. “How bad is it?”

Lena laughed again. “That depends… How do you feel about being gal pals?”


	4. Chapter 4

When Snapper Carr slapped a copy of _TMI_  Magazine onto her coffee table in the middle of the morning staff meeting, Cat allowed him to do so if only to study the cascade of expressions that paraded across Kara Danvers’ features. Cat expected the curiosity. The arrested look of shock and disbelief that immediately followed was a surprise.

Snapper straightened, and glared at Kara. “You’ve been living in Luthor’s back pocket for months, Ponytail. Care to share how a tabloid managed to scoop us?”

Coming back to find that her newest reporter had somehow become best friends with the Lena Luthor had been somewhat of a shock. When Cat first met Lena, years ago when they rubbed elbows in the same Metropolis circles, the girl had been prickly even then. She couldn’t imagine that had changed much since Lex’s… decline. But then again, Kara Danvers was frustratingly persistent, and if she’d set her mind to being Lena Luthor’s first friend in National City, then Lena hadn’t stood much of a chance at all.

Still, the tabloid didn’t have much of a scoop. Cat had indulged the purchase of a copy early that morning, simply out of curiosity. It took less than 30 seconds to determine that _TMI_ had no new news, and that they had dodged even the old news to the point of absurdity. The number of ways they avoided calling a shrub a shrub would have bordered on satire, if they had a single original thought among them. Snapper was right in that the _who_ was the only point of interest in the entire story, and even then only because of the way Kara Danvers reacted to seeing Reyna King gracing the cover next to her best friend.

By the time Kara straightened, her features revealed nothing. In that moment Cat was certain of two things: that Kara Danvers had no idea that her best friend was seeing someone, and that her former assistant was not happy with the development.

“I’m not Lena’s only friend,” Kara said finally, adjusting her glasses.

No one else seemed to notice the way the retort caught in Kara’s throat, but Cat did. It was the same hesitation that accompanied the minor slips that hinted at Kara’s extraplanetary origins, a sound intimately familiar to Cat after the week she spent trying to out her assistant as Supergirl. Only this time it was followed by a tightening of Kara’s fingers around the edges of her steno pad. From where she sat Cat could see the pages tearing under the girl’s fingertips, and the bend in the cardboard binding.

“And what scoop did they get exactly?” James Olsen asked. Cat turned her gaze to him, and found him studying Kara as well, though his question was directed at Snapper. It seemed he’d heard the catch in his friend’s voice as well, and recognized it for what it was. He covered his interest a moment later by folding his arms across his chest and turning his attention to Carr. “After everything Lena’s done for the city in the past few months, I think she’s earned a night out. Don’t you?”

Snapper glared at him. “It’s not the night out that’s the scoop, Olsen, it’s who she spent it with.”

“A woman? That’s hardly our business.”

“A photojournalist who got the iconic photo of Luthor at the dedication ceremony. The person who with one click succeeded in humanizing Luthor more effectively than we did with months of regular articles. Like it or not, crap like this may not be our business, but it’s on our radar because _Lena Luthor_ is our business.”

“Oh no.” Finally, Cat had had enough. She rose to her feet, she shook her head as she came around the front of her desk. Everybody in the room straightened at her interjection, even Snapper’s, though his sour expression puckered further at the rebuke he sensed coming. “Nuh uh.”

If there was one thing Cat regretted about her time away, it was that Snapper had enjoyed free reign in her absence. She’d anticipated James would have had a strong enough presence to curb his intensity, but it would seem he’d been less than the ideal candidate. Perhaps if he’d devoted his full attention to the role instead of gallivanting as a vigilante… but oh, well.

“Let’s not be so melodramatic,” Cat continued. She removed her glasses from her nose, and gestured towards the tabloid. Most eyes fell to the paper, but Kara’s diverted elsewhere. “This is Lena Luthor we’re talking about. _No one_ has a monopoly on Lena Luthor, not even Kara.”

Cat stared Snapper down, holding his gaze until he in turn looked away.

“The _news_ is our business,” she continued, “and we will cover Lena Luthor for however long she continues to influence current events in the city and elsewhere. Whatever this is,” she indicated the offending paper, which Snapper reclaimed. This time, Kara’s eyes followed it, drawn by Lena’s bright smile. “This is not news. It’s barely a story, considering they’re dancing so far around the truth they’re barely on the page. And besides, that ship sailed a long time ago. Surely you remember, Lucas; you were at the Herald when they chose to cover the tabloid scandal that outed her seven years ago.”

“I was,” Carr acknowledged after a tense, grudging moment. His tone remained gruff, but the sharp reminder of the circle jerk he’d been party to when the fiasco unfolded seemed to humble him. “I heavily protested that headline.”

“Which I confirmed with three independent sources before I considered hiring you.” Cat didn’t need to add any bite to her words. He and every reporter in the room straightened further, reminded that they did NOT work for _TMI_. They worked for CatCo. They worked for her.

“CatCo is interested in putting the spotlight on women enacting positive change. I suspect Miss Luthor will feature quite heavily in the next several months, but allow me to be perfectly clear-- who she sleeps with is nobody’s business. Not yours, not CatCo’s. Am I understood?”

“Yes,” Snapper conceded, echoed by a handful of other acknowledgements. Cat nodded.

“Good. Now, how about the article I actually asked for?”  Cat turned to Kara. “Kara, did you interview Miss Luthor yesterday?”

“Uhm, yes, Miss Grant.” Kara still had a habit of stuttering, but she didn’t reach quite so far to catch herself back up. An improvement. “Lena didn’t have much to say about Officer Sanchez’s death.”

“And what about the detection device?”

“Shelved.”

That got Cat’s attention. She studied Kara intently, and noticed with a small note of pride that the girl didn’t squirm. “Really...”

Kara nodded. How odd. Not that Lena had seen the negative implications with her intended product, but that she’d volunteered that information in an interview while the city was so rife with tension, and so close to fiscal year end. Still, if one added Kara Danvers to the equation-- that changed everything. Cat turned to Snapper with a smirk.

“There’s your scoop. Run with it.”

The room started to shift, preparing to leave, and Cat returned to her desk, prompting them to move faster. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Carr and Kara share a tense moment of eye contact before Snapper vacated the room. Kara paused for only a beat before turning to follow, and Cat took the opportunity to call her back.

“Miss Danvers, a word!”

Kara froze, then turned back, stealing a questioning glance at James Olsen as he passed. Cat ignored his shrug. “Close the door.”

Kara’s shoulders lifted in a bracing inhalation, the doors shut decisively. She turned to face Cat with her features crafted into the definition of professional interest. “Yes, Miss Grant?”

“Tell me, Kara,” Cat began, slowing her speech until every word held the gravitas it deserved. She slipped her glasses back on her nose, turning almost to the laptop waiting open for her, but not quite. “When you saw that cover, why did your face look like someone had run over your dog?”

“I don’t have a dog, Miss Grant.”

Cat looked at her from over the rim of her glasses, and let her gaze hold until Kara caved. “I-uh, I don’t know what you mean, Miss Grant.”

“Oh, I think you do. You might act like a millenial Pollyanna, but we both know your feelings run deeper than that.” Cat’s head tilted expectantly. “So talk.”

For a moment it looked like the girl might actually confide in her. But in the end, Kara pressed her lips together and mere shrugged. Cat rolled her eyes and stood. “So, your best friend has a new friend. You might know this new girl, you might not… but you didn’t know it was more than friendship.”

Kara blinked. “I-- Buh--”

Cat folded her arms over her chest. “Why?”

“Why… what?”

“Why didn’t you know your best friend was falling in love?”

Kara ducked her head. “I… I-- I don’t--”

“Kara.”

“I’ve just been really… really busy, and with Mo-- with Mike gone I haven’t really been in the mood for socializing, I guess. I mean, covering the city’s reconstruction has been a full time job, and I’ve been putting in a lot of overtime, and--”

“Those are excuses, not reasons.” Cat glared at her sharply, then softened when Kara flushed. “I will tell you the same thing I told a certain superhero, Kara: you don’t find happiness in _what_ you do-- it’s _why_ you do it that matters. If you lose the people who matter most to you, then what is the point of _anything_?”

Kara had no response. Cat gave it a moment before turning back to her desk, sensing her point had been made. “Your overtime ends now. Starting with a long lunch. Go see your friend, catch up. Get your nails done or whatever it is people like you do with friends.”

Kara blinked at her, frozen halfway between shock and protesting.

“Now!” Cat prompted.

“Yes, Miss Grant.”

And with that, Supergirl turned and marched quickly from her office, new determination hardening her features. Cat watched her go from the corner of her eye, hiding a smirk as she watched her protegee collect her purse before making a beeline for the elevators. She leaned back in her chair, allowing herself a sigh of satisfaction.

“It’s good to be back.”


	5. Chapter 5

Kara left Cat’s office with fire in her veins. She stalked to her desk to grab her purse, and paused slightly at the sight of the tabloid copy Snapper had left on her desk. Her eyes caught on Lena’s smile, before she snatched the paper up and folded it into her purse. On her way to the elevators, she nearly ran into James.

“Hey, Kara, is everything okay--”

“Sorry, I gotta go!” Kara called over her shoulder as she brushed past. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

She didn’t wait to see the dejected slump of James’ shoulders as he watched her go, and ignored the soft huff of his sigh that traveled to her ears before the elevator doors slid shut on her. When the elevator spat her out on the ground level, she turned towards L-Corp, but this time she didn’t bother grabbing food. Instead, she stopped off at the DEO first.

Marching towards the command center, she quickly caught sight of the very person she was looking for.

“Winn! I need you to run a search on Reyna King!”

Winn perked up immediately. “You got it, boss!” He straightened in his chair, cracking his knuckles in readiness. “Middle name?”

“Unknown,” Kara responded curtly. She placed a heavy hand on the back of his chair, rocking him back alarmingly. She muttered an apology. “She works at the Gazette.”

“That’ll do it,” Winn told her, fingers flying across the keyboard. Less than a minute later his computer chimed. “Here we go. Reyna King, _no_ middle name, born in 1988 to…. Oh. An orphan, left at a church. Went into the system, never adopted, in and out of group homes around Metropolis until she aged out-- wow, I know that feel. Got a scholarship to Spire University in Metropolis, majoring in Photojournalism and… oh! Art History. Kind of boring, but impressive. Moved to National City a little over a year ago--”

“When exactly was that?” Kara demanded, peering over his shoulder but unable to spot the details she was looking for.

Winn clicked on a provided link. “August ‘15, it looks like. Well, she submitted her two weeks in August, and looks like she signed with the Gazette a month later.”

Kara’s eyes narrowed, quickly making the connection she needed. Lex Luthor’s trial started in August that year. It could mean nothing, but Kara filed the information away, just in case. “Okay, go on.”

“Well, as you said, she’s now working for the Gazette. Looks like she recently saw a spike in Google hits… Oh, hey! These are hers?!” He clicked to enlarge the series of photographs that appeared on his screen, starting with the iconic image of Lena’s dedication ceremony that had graced the cover of the Gazette.

Kara hated seeing it. She’d avoided it even before she knew who’d taken the photo, when it only served as a reminder of her failure to prevent the explosion in the first place. She’d been late to her own dedication ceremony, and by the time Kara got there Lena and the emergency crews had everything well in hand. She’d been completely, utterly useless.

Now she resented it for an entirely different reason.

“That’s a really great photo,” Winn commented, lingering on the Gazette photo. “Lena’s great. I’ve been trying to get her to hang out, you know. She’s always been busy, though.”

Kara stared at him. She hadn’t known that. She hadn’t even known Winn was interested in knowing Lena better. He’d been vocal in his distrust of her before. But the disappointment in his voice sounded genuine.

“She’s-- just so cool,” he continued. “I mean, she built that irradiator device on the fly. No blueprints, no drafts of changes, nothing, just-- _Oh_.” He scrolled to the next photo in line, and there it was. The tabloid photo Snapper had waved in Kara’s face that morning, the same one now hidden away in her bag.

“Kara?” Winn asked, not taking his eyes from the screen.

“Yeah?” Kara’s fingers gripped the back of his chair so tightly the leather started to tear.

Winn cleared his throat. “Did-- did you have a reason for me doing a background search on Reyna?”

“We’re looking for any connection to Cadmus or LuthorCorp.”

“Yeah, no, I got that,” Winn said, turning to finally look at her. “I meant, _why_ are we doing that? Do you have a reason to suspect her?” When Kara didn’t respond, Winn pressed further. “Because it kind of feels like you’re looking for dirt on Lena’s girlfriend.”

Crossing her arms defensively, Kara scoffed. “Nobody has said anything about girlfriends, Winn. They could just be--”

“Before you keep going and insult an entire community,” Winn cut in, “you and I both know that Lena doesn’t smile like _that--_ he pointed at Lena’s happy smiling face, “with just anyone.”

“Winn...”

“Look, Kara, you are my friend, and I am glad that we stayed friends after everything, but that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable being used to spy on your crush’s girlfriend. And if--” Winn continued quickly, when he saw Kara take a breath to protest further, “ _if_ you are legitimately concerned for Lena’s well-being, maybe you should just go talk to her, instead of going behind her back.”

Kara jerked away, putting distance between them. “I am not--”

“When’s the last time you saw Lena?” he asked abruptly. Not accusing, no, too gentle for that. It was almost a normal conversation, except his eyebrows lifted expectantly, just like Cat’s. Like he too knew she’d been avoiding Lena.

Which was absurd. Because Kara wasn’t avoiding Lena at all. She’d just been busy, with Supergirl and with work. There’d hardly been any time for herself, let alone anyone else. But Winn continued, like none of that mattered.

“Because like I said, I’ve barely gotten to speak with her, but her assistant made several pointed observations that there’s someone else Lena always makes time for.”

Kara forced herself not to react. When she didn’t respond, he sighed, and turned back to his console. He clicked a single button, and the results of the search disappeared. Before Kara could protest, another rapid tap locked the console completely. Winn stood, his features grim.

“I want to count Lena as a friend,” he told her. “I know the DEO officially still has her on the watch list, but when I was working with her during the invasion, I think I saw what you told us over and over for so long. Lena’s a good person. And she deserves better than this.” He gestured the now dormant computer. His eyes held Kara’s, unrelenting. “Especially from a friend.”

He let his words sit for a long moment, then sedately pushed past Kara.

“Winn…”

“You want to tear down Reyna King?” he asked sharply, facing her from across the new chasm that had opened between them. “Then go through the proper channels. Until then, I don’t want any part in it.”

With that, he turned and headed for the break room. Kara didn’t follow him. She could ask anyone else in the room to perform the search. She could even bring her concerns to J’onn; like Winn said, Lena was on the watch list, so concerns about a new person in the CEO’s life wouldn’t necessarily be dismissed out of hand.

Kara’s cheeks tingled, stinging from Winn’s gentle reprimand. After one last glare at Winn’s retreating back, Kara left the DEO before anyone noticed her.

* * *

This time when she reached L-Corp, Kara discreetly scanned Lena’s office for visitors before giving the open door a tap. Lena’s gaze lifted briefly from her laptop, her features spreading into a smile as Kara entered.

“Kara, hi.” Lena’s eyes sparkled in the mid-afternoon light. “Did Snapper send you back to squeeze more details from me?”

Kara ignored the question, wordlessly handing over the tabloid she pulled from her purse. She watched Lena’s features carefully as she took the paper. She hoped to see shock, indignation, even outrage. But all she got was a quiet smile as Lena gazed at the cover photo.

“I picked up a copy myself on my way in this morning,” Lena admitted. “This may sound weird, but I like the picture.”

Today Lena looked like her normal self. Her hair hung long and elegant around her shoulders, and she wore red lipstick that had become a trademark. In the photo, Lena had worn a softer pink lip, and it made her look years younger. Even now her captured smile caught Kara’s eye-- wide and dazzling, it revealed a Lena she’d never met, and darkly she wondered which one was real: the Lena in the photo, or the Lena sitting in front of her.

“How well do you know Reyna King?”

Lena’s eyes flew to Kara, surprised at the sharp tone directed at her. “I’m sorry?”

“Do you know where she’s from? What she does in her free time?” Kara leaned in, pressing one hand against Lena’s desk. “Do you know _anything_ about her?”

She expected Lena to respond with a snap of irritation, to assume the questions were a cover for something else, and the way Lena’s eyes flashed to hers Kara thought she’d get it. But a second later, Lena’s eyebrows drew together in solemn concern, and she swallowed visibly.

“Is she a threat?”

Pulling back, Kara straightened at the somber tone that answered her accusation. Clearly, she hadn’t been the first to doubt Reyna’s interest as genuine, but instead of vindicated, Kara felt… numb.

“It’s possible,” she returned, unnerved by the sudden shift. “You can’t be too careful.”

Lena’s eyebrows lifted sharply, _now_ giving Kara the indignation she’d expected.

“ _It’s possible?_ ” Lena repeated. Kara’s shoulders lifted defensively, responding to the bite in Lena’s tone. “That’s all you have?”

“You’re a public figure, Lena, and trouble follows you like a magnet! You can’t afford to--”

“You think I don’t know that?” Lena stood, crossing to the side board to pour herself a glass of water. “That’s why I thought my best friend might be happy for me.”

Kara scoffed towards Lena’s back. “You mean your best friend you didn’t even _tell?_ ”

“You cannot be serious--”

“I had to find out from a tabloid, Lena! What am I supposed to think when you act like you’ve got something to hide?”

Lena slammed her glass down, water sloshing over the rim as she whirled to face Kara.  She jabbed a finger towards her desk, where _TMI_ still sat, taunting them.

“ _That_ happened less than twelve hours ago,” Lena fired back, eyes blazing. “Even if I did have something to share with you earlier, when exactly would I have had the chance to tell you? You haven’t spent more than five minutes alone with me outside of an interview in months. You barely respond to my texts anymore! I’ve tried respecting your need for space because I knew you were angry with me--”

“ _What?!_ ”

“--but you don’t get to blame me for the fact that we’re not communicating, and you _certainly_ don’t get to blame it on Reyna.”

Kara shoved her purse onto the nearest visitor chair, then crossed her arms with a mirthless smirk. “She’s from Metropolis, did you know that?”

“Yes! She told me at the restaurant the night we met!”

A shudder ran down Kara’s spine at the reminder. Not just that Kara had left early that night, left Lena alone and vulnerable to whoever happened to spot her from the bar, but that she still didn’t remember which restaurant it was, and only knew what date it happened because it was the still the most recent text in their chat window. It left a sour taste in her mouth, and Lena must have seen it in her expression, because her feature twisted into a smirk of its own.

“ _Lucenzo’s_ ,” she stated bluntly.

“What?” Kara snapped.

“Where I met Reyna. I noticed last time you were having difficulty remembering which restaurant you ditched me at. Understandable, considering there’s been so many.”

“That’s not fair,” Kara growled defensively.

Lena didn’t back down. “No, what’s not fair is that you’ve ignored me for three months and are now somehow jealous that I’ve found someone to spend time with!”

“ _Jealous?!”_

“Why else you would be reaching so far to find something bad about Reyna!”

Scoffing, Kara rolled her eyes. “Reaching? Lena, she left Metropolis when your brother was arrested. Did she tell you _that_?”

Lena shook her head, dismissing the concern as she crossed back to her desk.

“She and hundreds of others,” Lena fired back, crossing back to her desk. Too revved up to sit, Lena remained on her feet as she started gathering papers back into some semblance of order. “Between Lex and Superman destroying half the city, can you really blame them?”

“So she goes to the only other city protected by a Super? Is it still a _reach_ when someone moves across the country to escape one Luthor just to jump in bed with another?!”

Lena jerked, as though Kara had reached out and slapped her.

The atmosphere turned ice cold in the space of a second. In the next, time stretched as Kara’s words caught up with her. Her heart lurched, then almost stopped altogether as she watched Lena’s eyes widen with shock, and hurt, and then cool abruptly. In an instant, Lena’s features smoothed, until she looked no more affected than if a server had told her they were out of her favorite salad dressing. The room seemed to empty of air, as Kara suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

“Lena,” she stuttered, gasping around the lump in her throat. “I-- I didn’t mean--”

Even if she could finish it, the apology came too late. Lena lifted her chin, her eyes flickering down once and then back up, taking stock of Kara standing before her. Kara had faced the greatest dangers the Earth could offer, but never in her life had she ever felt as small as she did in that moment, trembling in Lena’s office as her best friend looked at her as though she were a stranger.

_If you lose the people who matter most, what is the point of anything?_

Now Kara understood what Cat meant. After an entire summer of dodging Lena’s phone calls and cutting visits short, Kara finally felt the distance between them. She felt the chasm torn between them by the blow her words had dealt. No, not the words. Not just the words. The words have all been said before. By other media outlets, by her enemies, by complete _strangers_ who knew nothing about Lena except her last name.

_The last Luthor._

_Just another Luthor._

_Once a Luthor, always a Luthor._

From everyone else, they rolled off Lena’s back like water. But from _Kara,_  her self-professed best friend… In a single moment, the friendship Kara so cherished crumbled, ground to dust under the heel of her anger.

“I am so sorr--”

“I have a meeting to prepare for,” Lena said, her voice low and smooth. Her jaw tightened. “You can see yourself out.”

A lump rose in Kara’s throat. “Lena, please--”

“Leave,” Lena cut her off. “Now.”

The threat to call security went unspoken, and Kara snapped her mouth shut. She gathered her purse, clenching her jaw as her throat tightened. Lena’s cool gaze followed her all the way to the door. There Kara paused, giving Lena one last glance.

Lena watched her, eyes sharp and utterly expressionless. Nothing Kara could say now would penetrate the sudden walls between them, and Kara knew better than to try. With a shaky breath, she turned the knob and left without another word.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am so sorry this took so long. I wish I could blame real life but this time it was just me not being happy with the chapter. I think this takes the record for the most re-writes. I even wrote a whole different chapter (with two different endings, from two different POVs) thinking I was missing a scene in there somewhere but I ended up cutting it out anyway. It was a nice interlude though, and I think you guys might enjoy it too, so I think I might include it at the end of this fic as a deleted scene. 
> 
> Anyway, TL;DR: the rest of this fic should roll out more quickly now. Sorry and thank you for being patient!

_“Is it still a reach when someone moves across the country to escape one Luthor just to jump in bed with another?!”_

Kara winced in her seat, physically flinching against the echo of her own words in her ears. She struggled to focus on the edits in front of her. The words blurred, warping under the tears that filled her eyes repeatedly before she blinked them away. In her mind she saw Lena-- eyes filled with hurt, fallen so still it seemed a breath could shatter her.

She hadn’t slept a wink last night; without a job for Supergirl, Kara had blindly rushed home, and spent the night frozen on the couch, waiting for tears that never came. She’d clutched her phone in her hands, trying to find the words to apologize. Every time she closed her eyes, Kara was transported back to Lena's office. Over and over, she saw the moment glass turned to steel, and Lena’s walls slammed into place, for the first time leaving Kara on the outside.

“Cat’s office _._ _Now_.”

Kara jumped at Snapper's sudden growl in her ear. He didn't wait for a response. Kara was forced to trot to catch up as he strode quickly across the bullpen. On her way, she caught James’ eye-- but from his expression, he was as confused as she was. She was on her own.

Cat waited for them behind her desk, features uncharacteristically somber. Kara quailed under her sharp gaze, drawing to a nervous stop between the two couches and clutching her notepad to her chest. When Snapper closed the doors behind them, the room seemed to shrink around them. Kara inhaled, carefully reaching up to adjust her glasses.

She cleared her throat. “Yes, Miss Grant?”

Fighting to remain still, Kara waited as Cat eyed her up and down. Whatever she saw in Kara, Cat’s expression didn’t change. When she finally met Kara’s gaze directly, her eyes were hard.

“L-Corp and its subsidiaries has withdrawn all press access from CatCo Media,” Cat informed her.

Ice pooled in Kara’s chest. No. Lena wouldn’t-- their argument had been personal. Even if she refused to speak to Kara ever again, Lena wouldn’t punish CatCo for what Kara had said. She wouldn’t target Kara’s career… Would she?

“Wha-- Why?” she stuttered.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Snapper drawled bitterly from behind her, “maybe something to do with the words _off the record_.”

Kara blinked, confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t--”

Cat inhaled, letting her clasped hands rest atop her desk. “The scoop on L-Corp’s alien detection device: was it or was it not off the record?”

Kara racked her brain. Her mind flashed to Lena’s cold gaze the day before, but quickly pushed past it to a day earlier. The afternoon of the interview, Lena’s features weren't stricken. She'd been irritated, in a rare moment of impatience. Kara’s phone had kept buzzing, pulling her attention away from the interview even when Kara waved at Lena to continue. When she’d tuned back in, Lena had asked a question, one Kara had readily agreed to though she'd barely heard what was being asked.

_Kara lifted her gaze back to Lena and found her friend's frustration had softened into a quiet smile. “...off the record?”_

Realization drove the breath from Kara’s lungs. “Oh, my god.”

"Kara,” Cat said finally, her voice softer than Snapper’s but ten times more devastating in its disappointment. Kara turned to face her, chest tight and her eyes rapidly clouding with tears. “Have you taken any meetings, on or off the record, with any of L-Corp's competitors?"

"No!” Kara’s voice ground in her throat, almost a gasp. “No, I didn’t, I swear--”

"Did anyone pay you to release this information without Lena Luthor's consent?"

Kara shook her head frantically, drawing a sigh from Cat while Snapper groaned.

" _Great_ ,” he grumbled. “You’re not a corporate saboteur, just an idiot.” He shared a look with Cat.

Kara struggled to swallow, lifting her head. “It was a mistake, I didn’t mean--”

“It doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t mean, Danvers.” Snapper’s voice scraped over Kara’s eardrums, his glare searing her skin. Kara struggled to focus as her senses spread outwards, trying to escape the discomfort of the room around her. She locked eyes with Carr.

"We have to take the article down," she said quickly. “We can pull it, and--”

"I have spoken with Miss Luthor directly, and we agree that the only course of action is to let the article stand. Retracting it now would only make it look like L-Corp is having second thoughts about valuing alien lives over profit, which we all agree is not the message we want to send. So far, she's made no noise about going public with your... indiscretion."

Snapper ground his teeth together with an audible squeak. "This kind of _indiscretion_ is starting to be a trend with you, Ponytail. A breach of ethics like this can destroy careers and stain the reputations of everyone involved. You think anyone else in this city will trust a news source that doesn't honor off-the-record?”

Kara flushed, her muscles clenching tightly at the rebuke. The room suddenly pulled into hyper-focus; she struggled to ignore the thunderous whoosh of the air conditioning and the glare of every minute pixel in the screens behind Cat. Her jaw locked tight, preventing any attempt at response even if she could formulate the words to do so.

After a tense, heavy moment, Cat stepped in to fill the silence. “Our next step is for you to deliver your notes and any recordings you have from the exchange to legal as soon as possible. If Miss Luthor does press charges, CatCo needs to be prepared.”

Kara nodded her understanding. She swallowed again, and managed to pull in another lungful of air. With conscious effort, she relaxed the muscles in her face, easing the tightness in her jaw as she exhaled. “Am I fired?”

Cat’s gaze traveled to Carr, then slowly came back to Kara. “No. You made a grave, _grave_ mistake, but ultimately the fact you were able to make it in the first place is a supervisory failure.”

Relief poured over Kara; her career wouldn’t survive a second firing so soon after the Cadmus article. But even with the lifeline, Cat didn’t let her get comfortable.

"Snapper and I agree that you have good instincts, Kara, and those instincts earned you more leeway than would typically be given to a junior reporter. You will of course receive a written reprimand and a note will be made in your personnel file. Until further notice you will not go into the field alone-- you will shadow a senior reporter until Snapper is confident in your competency.”

“And you can consider yourself lucky,” Snapper added. Kara’s eyes darted to him, and her spine stiffened under his imperious glare. “I sincerely doubt you’ll have much of a relationship with Luthor after this, but the fact the public knows you’re friends could help us spin it as an honest miscommunication if Luthor does take it public.”

Kara nodded again, incapable of anything more. Slowly, the world grew less vivid, more mellow as her heart rate returned to normal. After another moment, Snapper sighed sharply. “You and I will meet with HR tomorrow morning. Stay out of the office until then.”

With that, he left the office, leaving Kara alone with Cat. Unmoored by his departure, Kara’s breath hiccuped in her chest as her panic melted into the deep stab of failure.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said to make it right, Kara.”

Kara scrubbed her face, but it didn’t ease the sting in her eyes or the lump in her throat. “I swear, I didn’t mean to--”

“I believe you.” Cat’s voice remained low, smooth, and metered; the departure from her caustic mannerisms only drove home the severity of the situation. “But I also believe that a few months ago, this would never have happened.”

Cat was right. A few months ago she’d been speeding along her dream career path, propelled to swift heights by Supergirl’s connections and eye witness testimony. She’d had Lena’s friendship and fresh perspective, a perspective that sometimes challenged her to expand her worldview in ways she never would on her own. But now… she’d torn that friendship to shreds-- now in more ways than one-- and nearly lost her job. Again.

“Take the day, Kara,” Cat urged, rising from her seat to level a hard gaze at Kara. “Talk to whoever you need to, do whatever it takes--”

“I’ll fix it,” Kara vowed. “I promise, I--”

“Absolutely not!” Cat forbade sharply. Kara flinched, ducking her head once more at the rebuke. “The absolute last thing you will do is approach Miss Luthor again. You’ve already opened CatCo to litigation, so your only job now is to  _stay_ _away_ from her. You will not call her, you will not visit-- don't even _breathe_ in the direction of Cordova Street. Am I clear?”

Kara nodded quickly, even as her stomach dropped sickeningly. Cat eyed her, and finally nodded, satisfied.

“Do whatever you have to do, Kara, but figure out what you need to move past this. I know it’s hard sometimes, to recover from loss, but journalism is not a forgiving career. What we do affects millions, and one choice, one _mistake_ can alter the course of history.”

Cat stood there, one hand propped on her hip, and stared at Kara like she had all the answers. “Clearly I’m a little rusty on my speeches, _but_ \--” She locked eyes with Kara, fierce and determined. “I am confident you will come back from this, Kara. CatCo will stand behind you. You are not alone.”

Kara struggled to hold Cat’s gaze. She didn’t deserve Cat’s loyalty, or her faith. No more than she deserved Lena’s. She had failed, spectacularly, in every aspect of her life. Her vision clouded by fresh tears; she blinked rapidly to clear them before any could fall.

“Go,” Cat dismissed finally, still more gently than Kara deserved. “Be here seven o’clock tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.”

Released from her thrall, Kara rushed from the room. Her speed and distress caught the attention of Eve and several others; pitying glances dogged her footsteps as she sped to her desk. James caught up to her just as she swung her purse onto her shoulder.

“Hey,” he said gently. He kept his voice low, and his hand hovered briefly over her shoulder before he thought better of it. Tucking both hands into his pockets, he looked at her in concern. “Everything okay?”

Kara swallowed, flashing him a quick smile. “I’m fine.”

The response is easy and routine. It calmed her racing heart, and the need to be _fine_ dissolved the lump in her throat enough for her to breathe.

James shifted uncomfortably. “Okay. But look, Kara, if you need anything, I’m here for you. I know we haven’t really had a chance to talk, with everything that’s happened, but--”

“Thanks, James, but no thanks.” Kara rooted in her bag for her keys, and grabbed her cell from the corner of her desk. “There’s nothing to talk about.” Talking was what got her into this mess. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about it with James.

She pulled her purse higher on her shoulder and quickly snatched her phone from her desk. “I’m out for today. See you later.”

She didn’t wait for a response before heading for the elevators. Her heart pounded in her ears as she stepped into the elevator, and prayed her calm would hold. She didn’t know where she was going.

L-Corp and Lena were both off limits, even if she could brave facing Lena’s hurt again.

The DEO meant Alex asking questions about why she wasn’t at CatCo, and Kara’s throat locked perilously. If Alex said a single word to her, she would burst into tears.

On the other side of the city, Kara’s apartment sat grey and empty, brimming with memories of Mon-el and happiness that was no longer hers.

When the elevator doors opened, Kara poured out with the rest, following the flow of traffic out into the city. At first, her feet drew her along with the crowd towards the nearest park, where warm sun and soft grass made it the perfect summertime lunch spot. But as the crush of voices pressed more tightly against her senses, Kara quickly peeled away. Heart pounding, breath straining against her closed throat, she darted for the nearest alleyway.

In less than a second, Supergirl soared into the bright blue sky, leaving all traces of Kara Danvers behind.


	7. Chapter 7

Cat told her to stay away from L-Corp. That afternoon, flying so far above the city, Kara found the room to think, and knew that she couldn’t. Not if she wanted to have any chance of salvaging her friendship with Lena. And she did. The thought of losing Lena too cut deeper than a knife-- deeper than losing Mon-el did. So when she eventually changed back into Kara Danvers late that night, she quickly made her way downtown. The lobby sat dark, empty save a pair of night guardsmen and a janitor polishing the expansive marble floor by herself, armed with nothing but an mp3 player and an industrial floor buffer whirring away.

She knew Lena was still there though, shut away in her office-- Kara had seen the light of her desk lamp as she’d flown by on her way home. When she stepped off the elevator, her ears were assaulted by the tinny sound of voices shouting over a phone line. Jess’ desk was empty, no doubt sent home hours ago. Kara peeked through the wall of Lena’s office, and saw her friend slumped dejectedly in her chair as the voices continued to rail at her from the speakerphone.

Even through the wall, Lena’s misery was patently evident. She barely seemed to listen, instead letting the cacophony of voices pile on top of each other in their rush to heap blame and accusations on her. Lena sat silently, staring glumly at her hands, which were folded neatly in her lap. Kara blinked, restoring her normal vision and banishing the clouding tears of guilt. On leaden feet she crossed the antechamber to Lena’s open door.

Lena’s head shot up, eyes catching on her the second Kara stepped into view. Her features hardened instantly at the sight of her. Lena rose from her seat, leaning towards the speaker phone.

“Gentlemen!” she pitched her voice to cut through the incessant reprimands, and they thankfully paused at the sharp interruption. “We will resume tomorrow.”

“We are not done here--!”

“We are for tonight, Roger. It’s late, and I’m sure you’ll appreciate the extra time to find new names to call me.” Roger sputtered, but Lena didn’t give him the chance to respond.

“The timing of the news is unfortunate, but my decision stands. L-Corp is not in the business of making weapons, and that is all the device will be if we release it to the public. If anyone has a problem with that, I urge you to revisit L-Corp’s mission statement. We are here to make a positive difference in the world, not to pour gasoline on a fire.”

“Luthor--!”

“Good night, gentlemen.”

A slender finger reached out and disconnected the call. Green eyes flashed towards Kara; all of the calm she’d used when addressing her board members disappeared, leaving Kara to face the full force of Lena’s anger.

“I cannot _believe_ you have the nerve to show your face here.”

Lena thrummed with tension, from the sharp corner of her jaw to the icy glare staring daggers at Kara. The day before, Lena had completely withdrawn, pulling herself in lest any of it tangle with Kara on her way out. Now her barely contained anger seethed beneath her skin, just itching for a fight. Kara fought the urge to turn away, and stepped further into the office. She froze when Lena abruptly straightened to her full height, lifting her chin imperiously.

"Lena, please,” Kara said quickly, “I just want to--"  
  
"Give me one good reason I shouldn't call security, right now."  
  
"Because we're friends!" It burst out of Kara, her voice catching in her throat. The moment Lena’s features twisted into a sneer, she knew it was the wrong thing to say.  
  
" _Friends?_ " Lena's low voice rumbled over Kara’s skin, chilling every inch of her. "Are you serious?”  
  
"It was an accident, I promise! Please let me explain--"  
  
“I didn’t realize that violating off the record and sabotaging a business was something friends do to each other." Lena’s eyes narrowed, one eyebrow lifting imperiously. “But you tell me. You’re the expert, after all.”

Kara’s breath caught on the lump stuck in her throat. “I never meant to betray your trust, Lena, I swear!"  
  
"This is about more than my trust, Kara!” Lena’s voice lifted sharply. “Do you have any idea what your article will do? I told you that information off the record because I hadn't told the board yet! They and the public would have been told after the year-end numbers came in, so that we could use the next fiscal year to recover from any fallout!”

Lena’s gaze bored into Kara, rooting her to the spot. Every muscle in Lena’s body coiled, stiff with tension, like even the slightest twitch would unleash a hurricane.

“L-Corp has already been struggling,” she continued, her fists resting heavily on her desk. “I can only imagine what our stock is going to look like when the anti-alien crowd gets wind of this. I already have half a dozen investors threatening to pull out, and those are only the ones who have read your article!”

Kara swallowed tightly, struggling to breathe. “Lena--”

“Do you know what happens if we don't show double-digit growth by year end?"  
  
Kara opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came.  She shook her head.  
  
"It means the stockholders will get their numbers another way. A reduction in force: 5,000 people out of a job, minimum." Lena scowled deeply, before giving a facetious shake of her head. "All because you couldn't keep a lid on something I told you in confidence. As a _friend_."  
  
Kara took a shaking breath. "Lena, I--"  
  
“Save it. I’m guessing Cat Grant warned you not to come here, which means you’re here out of guilt and I have no interest in absolving you of anything. You can keep your apologies.”

She turned away, dismissing Kara entirely. She turned back a second later, her expression scrunching slightly in sardonic disbelief. “I used to marvel at you, you know-- at your seemingly genuine selflessness. Turns out you were just playing a longer game than most. Congratulations.”

It was a mistake to come here tonight. Every inch of Kara felt raw. Lena’s words scraped across Kara’s senses, and made her eardrums thump painfully. Her gaze felt like broken glass against Kara’s skin, before she tore it away and left Kara lurching forward, caught between needing a hug and needing to give one-- and knowing without a doubt that the physical distance between them was the only thing keeping the visit even slightly civil. She watched helplessly as Lena tossed her pen on her desk, the loud _clack_ making Kara jump. Lena glared at her.

“Get the hell out of my office,” Lena snapped. “Come here again, and I’ll slap you with a lawsuit so hard your boss will feel it.”

Kara didn’t hesitate. Clutching her purse tighter Kara rushed from the room, away from the furious pounding of Lena’s heartbeat and the glare that could cut steel. She flew down the stairs as the tears finally worked their way loose, barely making it to the shadow of the next alley over before taking off.

She punched straight through the clouds, until the world disappeared and only a blanket of thick clouds lay beneath her feet. Above her head was nothing but night sky, the stars bright and lonely. This high, she could still see the faint rays of the setting sun, but in moments they too disappeared, leaving her in an envelope of darkness. There, suspended in the nothingness, she felt it.

A deep chill seeped into her bones, tingling against her skin, the utter silence pressing against her mind. Kara closed her eyes against the familiar whisper. _The Phantom Zone._

Her heart crept into her throat, pounding furiously, then calmed. In the few times she’d felt that cold emptiness since falling to Earth, she’d feared it. She’d feared that it meant her life would be arrested again, that life as she knew it would end, or pass and leave her alone in an unfamiliar future. Tonight, she welcomed it.

She yearned for it.

She wished a wormhole would open around her and send her back to where the universe stood still and she didn’t have to do anything but sleep.

As though in answer to her silent plea, the world suddenly flashed into brilliant illumination beyond her eyelids. But the sudden roar in her ears wasn't right. She tore her eyes open, blinking against the sudden brightness, and froze.

In the space of a heartbeat Kara registered the hulking frame of the airliner bearing down on her, and the terrified faces of the pilots as they recognized her and tried too late to evade. Kara surged upwards out of their path, narrowly dodging the tail fin on her way up. Chest heaving, Kara hovered there, watching the jet grow smaller into the distance before the darkness swallowed it entirely. Adrenaline poured through her, chasing away the enticing call of the Phantom Zone.

She’d been so close… so close to nothing, and now her heart pounded, her ears roared with the sound of the plane’s engines. The Phantom Zone slipped further out of her reach. It wasn’t the first time Kara had felt the Phantom Zone and heard its whispers in her mind; it was the first time she felt disappointed when it faded away. It was that disappointment that sent Kara plummeting down, letting gravity pull her through the clouds and towards the city below. It was the new fear of her own mind that pushed her towards the one heartbeat that always brought her home.


	8. Chapter 8

“Scarlett Johansson or Jessica Biel?”

“Uhhh…” Alex considered her options, then grimaced. “Neither?”

“You can’t ‘neither’ out of Who Would You Rather, Danvers,” Maggie countered, pointing her ice cream spoon in her direction. “Against the rules.”

“Yeah, but--”

The spoon jabbed again, this time almost scraping Alex's chin. She groaned. 

“Fine. Biel. I liked that plane movie she was in.”

Maggie’s nose crinkled incredulously. “Really?” Alex nodded, adding half a shrug to soften the blow. She wouldn’t ever watch it again, but hey. “It was about a hair-gelled fly-boy with a talking plane that jacked everything up. I wouldn’t think you’d have even deigned to watch it.”

“Hey, it was on discount at the college auditorium and Kara was visiting, okay?” she justified. “And besides, Biel was the biggest badass in the entire movie, and she did it without the fancy AI, so--”

Whatever else she had to say about her reluctant choice was lost in an explosion of breaking glass as one of the wide windows behind them shattered. In an instant both of them were on their feet. Alex pulled a gun from the coffee table drawer, facing the threat with Maggie solid and present at her shoulder.

Then her brain caught up with her, and she realized the shape standing in the fractured frame of the window was her sister.

“Kara!” Alex heaved a sigh of relief, but Maggie tensed beside her. Alex knew what put her on edge-- the empty gaze staring at them looked nothing like the Kara that Maggie knew. Alex gave Maggie a silent nod, engaging the pistol’s safety and handing it over. She knew that look. She’d known it was coming, and waited for the moment that Kara would finally let her in.

She just didn’t think it would take so long, or be so deep.

“Hey,” Alex said softly, moving around the sofa to reach her. Kara turned to her, and the lamplight glinted off the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, Kara…”

“I--” Kara’s voice was little more than a croak, thick and unfamiliar. “Alex, I-- I’ve ruined everything!”

Alex reached for her, and Kara flew into her arms, with enough force to make Alex stagger. She didn’t fall-- the same arms that tightened around her for comfort kept her upright, ironclad and desperate for contact. Alex wrapped her arms around Kara as tight as she could until her muscles strained and pulled around Kara’s shoulders.

Hot tears dampened her pajama shirt. Finally, the sobs came; sharp and ragged, they poured from Kara in a torrent of emotion, the likes of which Alex hadn’t seen since Midvale. Alex could only hold her tight and ride it out, stroking her sister’s hair as soothingly as she could manage. When they started to lose power, Alex slowly started moving them towards the couch, murmuring all the while and never once releasing her embrace. When they settled on the couch, still joined together, they found a familiar position, sinking into the cushions with Kara burrowed against her shoulder, nestled tightly against Alex’s side.

Kara’s sobbing eventually gave way to words Alex couldn’t quite catch, tumbling out in a jumble of sound, further distorted by Kara’s face against her neck and the tears still coming. She heard snippets, mentions of Mon-el, Lena, Rhea, and CatCo catching Alex’s ear but not falling into any sort of discernable meaning. Maggie quietly swept the broken glass off the floor behind, before letting herself out. Their eyes met over the top of Kara’s head, understanding and a promise to check in the following morning all in one. 

Then they were alone, and Alex held Kara for hours until they both fell into a restless sleep, still tucked against each other. 

* * *

The next morning Alex woke when Kara shifted against her. Blinking against the morning sun, Alex recalled the night before, and quickly turned her attention on her sister, who woodenly levered herself up onto the cushion next to her. There she sat, head bowed with her hands in her lap, utterly still. 

“Hey,” Alex said softly, reaching out to stroke Kara’s hair. She kept her movements slow, and her voice low. “You okay?”

It wasn’t a question that needed answering. Alex knew the truth. But if Kara answered truthfully, it was Alex’s cue to offer whatever guidance she could. If she didn’t-- if Kara deflected as she had all summer… then the intervention she’d already discussed with J’onn and Eliza was still on the books.

“I’m fine--” Kara’s croak cut off abruptly, and was followed by a shuddering sigh. Her lips thinned as her shoulders curled in on herself. “No. I’m not okay.”

Alex nodded in understanding, tucking a piece of Kara’s hair behind her ear before reaching out to take her hand. “Talk over pancakes?”

Kara nodded.

And she did.

As Alex started to mix up the pancake batter she knew by heart, Kara started to explain everything that she’d mumbled and heaved the night before. How she’d been late to dinner, how Lena met Reyna, from the interview to the article and everything in between, and then everything that followed.

Hearing Kara mention the Phantom Zone as Alex set a tower of pancakes between them chilled her to the bone-- when Kara had explained to her what it had felt like in her pod, sleeping for all those years, Alex had had nightmares, dreaming she was the one trapped in a sea of nothingness. By the time Kara finished, she’d poked her pancake from one side of her plate to the other, without eating a single bite.

Alex took a deep breath, nodding as she processed everything Kara had shared. Her own pancake soaked in a bath of cold syrup, forgotten.

“It sounds like everything started unraveling when you found out Lena made a new friend.”

Kara shrugged. “Yeah. I guess.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Why do you think it bothered you so much?”

“I don’t know!” Kara slumped back in her chair, throwing her hands up. “I guess I was-- I was hurt! I thought we were friends, and she didn’t even tell me she was---” She deflated again. “But that’s my fault too. We’ve barely spoken in months, because I’ve been too busy to spend any time with her.”

Kara drew her hands into her lap, twisting her fingers together. “And now she probably won’t want to talk to me ever again.”

Alex knew better than to placate the melodramatic muttering. Kara wouldn’t hear it, and ultimately it wasn’t the most critical issue to address. Unfortunately, she couldn’t address that issue here either-- she would have to wait before she broached the topic of counseling. She and J’onn had found someone who specialized in grief counseling-- someone J’onn knew who worked pro bono in the alien community to help refugees acclimate to life on Earth. Someone who could give Kara help in processing her grief, and managing it-- help she never got back in Midvale. Help Alex couldn’t give. 

If she mentioned it now, Kara would balk. If Alex waited a few days for the smoke to clear, when Kara had rested and came to her own decision that she was ready to feel better-- maybe, just maybe Kara would think about it.

“Maybe she won’t,” Alex said ultimately, rising from her chair to wrap her arms around Kara. “But I do think you should wait until it blows over before you try to speak to her again. You both need some space, and from what you said, it sounds like she’ll be scrambling until the fiscal year ends.”

Kara pressed her forehead against Alex’s ribs, nodding. “Yeah,” she mumbled. Her next breath was ragged again, and Alex felt her eyes squeeze tightly shut. “I don’t know how everything got so out of hand, Alex. I tried so hard to keep everything normal, and I just-- made everything  _ worse _ .”

“I don’t know, Kara,” Alex replied truthfully. “But I’ll be here to help you, any way I can.”

A sigh answered her. They sat there, sharing a warm moment until Alex started to wince from the counter’s edge digging against her hip. Finally, she pulled Kara up with her. 

“Come on,” she urged, prodding her sister towards the bedroom and the bathtub beyond. “You could probably use a shower, right?”

Kara nodded. A second later she stopped, stiff as a board as she registered the black plastic sheet taped against the window for the first time. “Alex…” she breathed, pressing her fingers against her lips. “I am so sorry---”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Alex promised. She gave Kara a reassuring squeeze. “You can help me fix it.”


	9. Chapter 9

Kara’s article proved to be the headline that launched a thousand opinions. Everyone had one. The anti-alien protestors, the pro-alien protestors, the news, even her coworkers at CatCo, though CatCo itself remained mute on the subject. In the span of two weeks, every known skeleton in the Luthor closet was trotted out for examination: questionable business deals and multiple federal investigations while under Lionel Luthor’s rule; Lillian’s fall from grace following the revocation of her medical license and her subsequent Cadmus dealings; Lex’s rampage in Metropolis and the very public conviction that followed. And in the middle of it all was Lena, uninvolved with any of those scandals and yet unable to disentangle herself from the fallout.

Lena herself gave no comment-- to anyone. Every night Kara scanned the skyline and every night she saw Lena’s office lights still on, sometimes even as the first rays of the sun crept over the horizon. Kara wondered what the talking heads on tv might say if they knew that Lena was spending her nights fighting to save the livelihoods of thousands of people.

During the day Kara kept her distance from L-Corp. Alex was right-- no matter how much she ached to talk to Lena, to apologize again and again, Lena would only resent anything that took her focus from the priority of saving L-Corp and its employees. So Kara held her breath along with the rest of the city, waiting to see what Lena pulled out of her hat.

The answer came the morning of the 30th, when the world woke to the news that L-Corp had won a lucrative government contract that not only met the projected numbers, but would allow L-Corp to expand to the tune of 1,500 new jobs in National City-- collectively announced as the L-Corp Innovation Initiative. Still no comment came from L-Corp.

Later, Kara told Alex she wouldn't make it to movie night. She didn’t elaborate; she didn’t need to.

“Are you sure?” Alex looked at her carefully.

Kara nodded. She needed to talk to Lena. Or at least try. “I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Alex accepted. “Let me know if you need anything.”

That night, Kara didn’t go to L-Corp. One fly-by was all she needed to know the penthouse office was finally dark, its occupant long gone for the day. Instead, she touched down outside the apartment building she’d been to only a handful of times. Lena’s doorman recognized Kara on sight, and waved her through as he continued to help a harried mother of two load her family into a cab.

When she reached Lena’s floor via the private elevator, she paused. She heard no voices, no sounds out of the ordinary. Nothing but the air conditioning and the buzz of the halogen lights in the short corridor. For a brief moment, Kara wondered if she’d made a mistake-- what if Lena was asleep? Or not here at all? Only now did Kara consider that she might be with Reyna, somewhere far, far from where Kara could find her.

Then she heard the faint clink of ice in a glass, and apprehension gripped her insides anew. Swallowing thickly, Kara gripped the strap of her purse tightly, and gave the door a timid knock. A long silence passed, before a low voice called out.

“It’s open.”

Kara’s heart climbed into her throat and stayed there. Lena’s voice didn’t sound like the voice of someone celebrating a victory, and when the knob turned readily under her hand, Kara grit her teeth. Of all the doors in National City that should stay unlocked, Lena’s wasn’t one of them.

“How did you know it was me?” Kara asked softly. She stepped into the room, and let the door click shut.

“Only two people know where I live,” Lena delivered. Ice clinked again in her glass when she tilted it, blinking slowly at its contents. “And Reyna actually listens when I say I don’t want to see her, so...”

Lena’s apartment always made Kara feel small. The tall ceilings and open floor plan felt surreal, almost like her family's quarters in Argo City. Sometimes, when the western wall of windows caught the setting sun just right, Kara imagined she might see a pod zoom past if she stared long enough. Tonight the city was fully dark, leaving Kara to focus solely on Lena. Her friend sat curled in one corner of the long couch facing the windows with a glass of something dark and amber in one hand. She stared out at the cityscape, but didn't seem to see it at all.

Kara licked her lips, clutching her purse tightly in front of her. “What if it hadn’t been me or Reyna?”

“Then this week would be someone else’s problem.” Lena arched an eyebrow, one shoulder lifting in an unconcerned shrug. “Bonus.”

Lena took another long gulp from her glass, emptying it before setting it atop one knee. There it sat, as Lena traced the rim with a fingertip. Kara hesitated. This time, she knew what she wanted to say, but still couldn’t bridge the gap yawning between them.

“Can we talk?”

Scoffing, Lena turned her head-- not far enough to make eye contact, but enough so that Kara could see the eyeroll that followed. “Would you leave if I said no?”

Kara gripped her purse strap so tightly the leather squeaked under her fingers. She struggled to take a calm, even breath, while her heart pounded in her throat.

“Yes.”

She waited, fully prepared to leave if Lena told her to. One heartbeat passed, then two. The dismissal never came. Lena simply turned back to the window; neither an invitation nor a dismissal. Kara took an uncertain step towards her, and another, until she stood at the far end of the long couch. Lena still didn’t look at her, not even when Kara perched stiffly on the edge of the cushion.

With a heavy, silent sigh, Kara turned her gaze to the window. From here, their reflections were hazy against the backdrop of the city. Their eyes almost met in the glass, before Lena turned her chin, hiding her face from Kara.

“I saw the headlines,” Kara started, hesitantly. “You did it. You saved all those jobs...” Lena shrugged. “How did you do it?”

This time, Lena didn’t respond. Kara wasn’t sure she expected her to. It wasn’t what Kara had come for. She took a deep breath, and forced her shoulders to relax.

“I truly am sorry, Lena. I never meant to cause problems for you, or for L-corp.”

Lena scoffed, but said nothing.

“I didn’t realize how much I was struggling, or how much I was hurting you.” Kara paused, watching Lena’s averted profile carefully. She could just see the way Lena’s lips had screwed together in an unhappy bow, but her gaze remained studiously elsewhere. “When Mike left--”

“Mon-el.”

_Oh._ Lena set her phone aside, locking the screen and leaning back into the cushions. Somehow, Kara had almost forgotten Lena and Mon-el had spent days together trapped on Rhea’s ship.

_Did you know he was dating Kara Danvers?_

She’d forgotten that too: the look in Lena’s eyes as she’d squared off against Supergirl to protect Kara’s heart. Lena-- perceptive, razor-sharp Lena-- had seen the glances between Supergirl and Mon-el and discerned the truth, while Lillian’s smirking face taunted Kara of all the untruths still between them.

In the window’s reflection, Kara realized that Lena was looking at her phone, the device obscured by the way Lena had pulled her knees to her chest. Kara pressed her eyes shut. Whether it was work or distraction, a new wave of guilt washed over Kara. She took a deep breath before she could let it overwhelm her.

“I thought the fastest way to move on would be to get back to normal,” Kara continued, “but all I did was ignore what I was feeling. And somewhere along the way it meant pushing you away too. I never meant to hurt you.”

“You blamed me.”

“No--”

“Stop lying!” Lena’s voice turned razor sharp, tucking her phone away with one hand as she gestured angrily with the other. “Just admit it! You blame me for what happened to Mon-el. I’m the reason the invasion happened in the first place, and I’m the one who built the device that made the planet uninhabitable for your boyfriend.”

“You weren’t the one who made the choice to use it.”

Lena scoffed bitterly. “Oh, please. Like anyone would blame the Girl of Steel when there’s a Luthor in reach.”

Kara flinched, again hearing the echo of her own hurtful words. If she could rewind time and do a single thing differently, it would be to take those words back. To make it so that she had never even come close to confirming Lena’s worst assumptions about herself.

“Lena…”

“That’s why you published the article, isn’t it? To punish me for daring to be happy when I’d made you so miserable?”

“Wha-- _No!_ ” Kara cried. “No! The article was a mistake. A stupid, stupid mistake that should never have happened. I hate that it caused so much trouble for you. I’m so sorry, Lena.”

Lena plucked the glass from her knee, swirling the half-melted ice. “Is that why you tried to find dirt on Reyna?” she asked, her voice low. “Or was that just a mistake too?”

Kara hesitated. Calling it a mistake would be the easiest way out, but to take it back would be disingenuous. She’d known what she was doing, even if it had been for the wrong reasons. But the truth stuck in her throat, and in the silence Lena found her answer.

Lena shoved to her feet with a huff, crossing to the brass drink cart sitting against the wall. She kept her back to Kara as she poured herself another drink. Kara paused, in case Lena was using the task to give herself time to compose her thoughts, but when one finger of scotch was knocked back in a single swallow, Kara tried again.

"The article wasn't deliberate, Lena,” her voice crackled. “I swear. I know it doesn't make it right, but you have to know that I would never do something like that intentionally."

Lena set her glass down with a snap, reaching for bottle once more. “I wish you had.”

Kara blinked. “What?”

“It’d make sense.” Lena flopped back onto the couch with fresh drink in hand, pulling her legs up underneath her. “I hurt you. You hurt me.” The drink in her hand gestures widely, almost sloshing over the rim, but never quite spilling.

“That’s logical. _That,_ I get. But for you to not even think twice about running that article, to not even _consider_ how damaging it would be? That makes me feel pretty damn insignificant.”

Lena took a long pull of her drink, while Kara’s hands started to shake. She gritted her teeth, trying not to breathe and dislodge the sob caught in her throat.

"But I do believe you,” she finished dully, lifting her shoulder in a lax shrug. “Anything else is my own problem.”

Words pushed at Kara’s chest, protests and reassurances that _no,_ Kara didn’t consider Lena to be insignificant. They all died on her lips. They were just words. It wasn’t just the article that made Lena feel small-- it was every unanswered text, every night she’d left dinner early, the hastily postponed lunches. Nothing Kara had done in the past three months gave Lena value-- and Lena was too raw, and too smart to appreciate whatever hollow platitudes Kara could give her now.

“Do you really think I didn’t consider the possibilities?”

Kara blinked, turning to face her. Lena looked at her, meeting her gaze for the first time that night. The hurt staring back at her lanced through Kara’s chest, making her fingers tighten on her purse while her throat closed up.

“You think I haven’t spent hours wondering what Reyna could possibly see in me?” Lena’s voice wavered, eyes glistening.

Kara sniffled, her voice catching on the burr in her throat. “Lena…”

“I don’t want to live my life fearing the worst of people,” Lena ground out, running her fingers through her hair. “What is the good of anything I’ve done so far if in the end I turn out to be just like my mother?”

“You won’t,” Kara promised, believing it with all her heart.

“Really, Kara?” Lena leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She scrubbed a tired hand over her reddened eyes. “Because I already had my mother’s voice in my head, telling me I’m naive to think Reyna’s intentions are genuine… Now I hear yours too.”

Kara gasped, barely containing the sob that nearly burst out of her. Lena straightened at the sound, swallowing against her own tears. Kara wiped her cheeks roughly, but couldn’t stop the corners of her lips from pulling down as she caught her breath. “I am so, _so sorry.”_

Silence answered her. Kara’s tears kept coming, and eventually Lena distanced herself by crossing to the window, where she stared out at the city. Her reflection came into sharp focus against the glass, and Kara could see the tears glittering in her eyes. This time, Kara didn’t rush to fill the quiet. She didn’t know how long she sat there, watching Lena in the window, but when her chest started to ache again, and Lena’s glass was empty once more, she finally asked the only question that mattered.

“Are we going to be okay?”

Not right now; maybe not even soon. But eventually, she hoped, that one day they could come back from this. She couldn’t lose Lena too.

For a long moment, Lena didn’t answer. Then, just as Kara almost gave up hope…

“I don’t know.” Lena glanced down into her empty glass. When she lifted her gaze to the window once more, her features had firmed. “And I don’t know if I want to be.”

A loud knock cut through Kara’s shock before she could think to react. Numb, she heard Lena clear her throat before crossing to answer it. Reyna stood on the other side, puffing for breath in wrinkled pajamas and hair tousled from sleep. Kara forced a pleasant smile onto her face as she rose to her feet, but Reyna had eyes only for Lena.

"Hey! I came as quick as I could! Is everything okay? No-- sorry, that’s a stupid question, of course it’s not-- are _you_ okay??"

Lena nodded stiffly. "Kara was just leaving."

"What?"

Reyna's gaze landed on her, and Kara almost flinched at the silent rage that glared back at her. She braced herself for the angry diatribe on the verge of pouring from Reyna, but it never came. Lena’s hand gently touched Reyna’s wrist, assuring her she had it handled.

"Kara was just leaving," Lena repeated.

"Yes,” Kara agreed, flushing. “Sorry. I didn't realize you were expecting company." She shot a glance to Lena, recalling her earlier statement. _Reyna actually listens when I say I don’t want to see her._

"I texted her," Lena said. Now Kara knew what Lena had been doing on her cell phone. Her stomach lurched when Lena continued. "I didn't want yours to be the last face I saw tonight."

Fresh tears sprang to Kara’s eyes, and she ducked her head to hide them.  For all brutal honesty, Lena’s words lacked bite, not intended to hurt, regardless of how much it did. It was simply exhaustion and just a little too much alcohol peeling away the veneer of polished composure to expose uncomfortable truths.

With a deep breath, Kara nodded. She carefully sidled around Reyna to slip out the door. There she paused, and looked back, blinking the fog of tears from her eyes.

"Good night, Lena."

Flat green eyes met her gaze. "Don't come here again."

The door clicked shut, thunder in Kara’s ears. The sound of Lena’s anguished exhalation from the other side of the closed door pulled her senses behind the barrier, easily picking out the silhouettes of Lena and Reyna against the sparsely furnished apartment. She held her breath as she watched Reyna reach out to touch Lena’s hand.

Lena stood motionless, facing the door with her fingers tangled in Reyna’s. She allowed herself to be turned when Reyna gave her a gentle tug, and stepped into the offered embrace. A soft, ragged sigh escaped her, muffled by Reyna’s shoulder.

After a long moment, the taller woman pulled back just enough to study Lena’s features, gently brushing long dark hair away from her face.

"Are you okay?" Reyna asked quietly, echoing her initial question.

Lena pulled away. The hair Reyna had tucked back fell forward again, and Lena hid her shaking fingers by quickly hooking it back behind her ear. Her throat worked around a swallow, the sound loud in Kara’s ears.

“I’m going to bed,” Lena said instead of answering. Reyna could only nod, but when Lena moved to pass her on the way to the bedroom, their fingers tangled again and held, pulling Lena to a gentle stop.  

"Do you want me to leave?"

Reyna’s voice was small, making Kara’s stomach lurch at the tenderness contained in the quiet question. For a long moment, Lena didn’t respond, her back to both Reyna and Kara as the silence stretched tortuously. Then, ever so softly...

" _No_.”

Kara heard Reyna's nearly inaudible sigh of relief. As Reyna followed Lena towards the bedroom, Kara realized she hadn’t been the only one giving Lena her space the last few weeks.

With that small sigh, the last vestiges of suspicion in Kara’s chest fell away. In its absence she felt the hollow realization that she’d judged Reyna the same way everyone else judged Lena. She’d come to Lena with half-baked suspicions and sown seeds of doubt in the mind of a woman who needed little help imagining the worst.

Kara shook her head to clear her vision, and finally turned towards the elevator. On the way down she pulled out her phone and texted Alex she was all right. It had gone better than she thought it would. Lena had answered the door. She’d given Kara more than silence. It wasn’t much, and promised nothing for their future-- but it was something more than nothing.


	10. Chapter 10

“Do you want me to leave?”

Reyna’s heart pounded in her chest. She would do whatever Lena asked, acutely aware that they haven’t even had a real date yet, and that Lena may not have needed her to be anything more than a reason for Kara Danvers to leave. If that was all Lena wanted from her, she’d respect that, but it would kill her to leave knowing Lena was hurting--

“ _No_.”

Lena’s fingers tightened on hers at the soft admission, bringing tears to Reyna’s eyes. Lena had never sounded so small before. Lena radiated presence-- she could own a room simply by entering it, and commanded attention with a single word. Reyna saw it that day at Perennial Park, when a massive crowd had instantly quieted the moment Lena stepped up to the podium. This new emptiness transformed her into someone Reyna hardly recognized, and it broke her heart.

When the article had first published, Reyna had read the headline and known exactly the kind of storm headed towards L-Corp. Her frantic call to offer help was answered by a stiff request for space.

“I’m sorry,” Lena had softened a second later. She’d paused on the other end of the line, audibly gathering her thoughts. “I’m not trying to shut you out. I just need all of my attention on this.”

“Yeah, no, of course,” Reyna had stammered, eager to agree. “How long do you need?”

“Until the end of the quarter. After that, it won’t matter.”

The two weeks that followed had been the longest of Reyna’s life. She’d watched the activists flock to L-Corp to protest, then counterprotest, powerless to help. She’d slept with her phone next to her ear for the duration, in case Lena changed her mind or just needed to talk. She hadn’t, until her phone had buzzed tonight, right as Reyna had hovered on the edge of sleep. Within seconds she’d been out the door and hailing a cab, her entire body humming with the sudden ability to _do something_.

Now, still in her pajamas, she sat on the edge of Lena’s bed as Lena disappeared into the bathroom. The bedroom didn’t look quite look like how she’d imagined-- she'd known Lena was in a different tax bracket, and told herself she understood what it meant, but _seeing it_ was something else entirely. The room felt palatial around her, with dark teal walls complemented by tall ceilings and silver accents. It was soft, and elegant, and still she saw Lena in the dogeared books sitting on the bedstand, and the soft fabric of the plush duvet and cream chenille blanket folded neatly at the end of the bed. It still felt cozy, despite its size.

When Lena re-emerged moments later, she climbed onto the far side of the bed without a word, not bothering to pull back the covers. The room wasn’t chill by any means, but Lena wrapped her arms around herself as though to escape a deep, abiding cold. Silence hung thick and tense between them, and Reyna suddenly found herself at a loss of what to do.

In the end, Reyna carefully scooted across the covers until they were almost touching. Lena flinched when Reyna put a hand on her shoulder, but didn’t pull away. Reyna's soul ached for Lena, but she couldn’t find the words to help her. What _could_ she say? She’d waited so long to help, and now that she was here she had no map on how to navigate the situation.

“I’m fine,” Lena told her, voice tired. The platitude was smooth enough Reyna almost might have believed it if she couldn’t see the redness in her eyes or feel the steely muscle clenched tight under her fingers.

Reyna could point out all of the ways she was clearly _not fine_ , but she doubted direct confrontation was the best way to care for Lena. She could also accept the brush-off at face value, and give Lena the time and space she needed to get herself through it alone. Lena’s body language suggested it would be her preference, especially as she had yet to make eye contact at all tonight.

But if that was really what Lena wanted-- Reyna wouldn’t be here at all. Lena would have taken the out she'd offered, and asked Reyna to leave. Instead, Lena had asked her to stay.

Reyna laid down the rest of the way, careful to avoid Lena’s long hair fanned out on the pillow between them. She spooned Lena until her arms looped around her waist, slowly enough that Lena could pull away if she wanted. Though Lena stiffened at the gentle contact, she soon lifted her elbow so Reyna could more comfortably reach around her.

"Okay," Reyna accepted quietly. "But I'm here if you don't want to be fine any more."

Lena didn't say anything. Long moments passed, and with each one Lena's inhalations grew more ragged against Reyna's chest. When her shoulders finally hitched in a quiet sob, Lena’s entire body seemed to contract, curling in on herself as the tears finally came. Reyna fought her own tears as she rubbed small circles on the back of Lena’s hand. She held on, until the tears dried up and Lena slipped into an uneasy sleep. When Reyna’s own eyes began to slam, she was still curled protectively around Lena, and just before she nodded off, she pressed a careful kiss to the bare skin of Lena's shoulder. Then she let sleep take her, lulled by the steady thump of Lena’s heartbeat.


	11. Chapter 11

Lena woke the next morning to crusted eyes and stiff muscles. Neither she nor Reyna had moved in the night, and for a long moment Lena allowed herself to enjoy the warmth pressed against her back, and savor the soft breaths lightly puffing against the small hairs by her ear. Then she shook herself back into reality. She carefully maneuvered herself out from under Reyna's arm and padded into the bathroom.

Lena had imagined gentle mornings with Reyna: soft sunlight bearing witness to tender touches and softer words. This didn't feel like one of those mornings. Lena felt battered and bruised, and the lack of sleep the past few weeks left her hollow.

When she emerged feeling marginally more awake, Reyna was sitting upright on the bed. She offered Lena a gentle smile. "Hi," she said softly. "How are you?"

Lena's return smile felt empty, but she answered truthfully. "I'm okay." She held Reyna's gaze for a moment, then gestured to the bathroom behind her. "It's all yours. There's a spare brush under the sink. I'll get a pot of tea going for whenever you're ready."

She escaped from the bedroom, and quickly busied herself with boiling water and scooping her favorite tea into the diffuser. By the time Reyna joined her, she'd come back to equilibrium. They stood at the island counter as the tea cooled, neither rushing to fill the silence. After her first sip, Lena spoke.

"Thank you," she said, flushing as Reyna's eyes locked on her. "For coming."

"Thank you for asking me," Reyna countered. She set her teacup aside. "I've been really worried about you, but didn't know how to check on you without adding myself to your problems."

Lena nodded. In the frantic bid to pull in more revenue, the last thing she would have needed was someone nagging her about sleep and food and taking time for herself. She’d asked for time and space to focus on L-Corp, and Reyna had given it. She realized now it might have been difficult for Reyna to wait, but in the end it had been exactly what Lena needed.

"I appreciate it."

Reyna folded her hands together. "So you got your numbers?"

The heavy pall of dread and failure that had dissipated overnight came back full force. Lena stared into her cup, nodding.

"You don't seem relieved." Lena didn't have an answer to that. "What did you have to give up?"

Lena's throat locked tight, and she turned away to hide the color climbing up her neck. Reyna stood, following but giving her plenty of space.

"I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me. But I promise whatever you do say is safe with me. I'm not here as a journalist."

"It’s classified," Lena said quickly.

Reyna blinked. "Oh."

It was a handy and true excuse, but even if it wasn't, Lena still wouldn't have been able to share that she'd granted access to the transmat portal to the federal government. She’d curtailed the terms of the contract as best she could while maintaining the advantage, but she wasn’t naive enough to believe it would stop them if they decided to sieze the technology. It stank of Lex’s defense contracts, one step closer to transporting weapons and troops halfway across the globe in the blink of an eye.

While it saved the jobs of thousands and put L-Corp back in the black, it went against everything she wanted L-Corp to stand for.

"There are a lot of people still able to feed their families because of you," Reyna told her. She reached out and took Lena's hand. Lena inhaled deeply, willing the lingering traces of Reyna's perfume to loosen the vise around her chest.

"I just hope it's enough."

Reyna wrapped her arms around her and Lena sank into the embrace.

"I love you, you know that?"

Lena froze, alarm clamoring through her system.

Reyna felt the change in her instantly, and had already loosened her grip by the time Lena stiffly pulled away. She gathered her cup and saucer and moved to the sink to rinse them, her motions sharp and uneven. Reyna stood back, as though sensing she’d said the wrong thing.

“Lena, I’m sorry,” Reyna offered. “I don’t--”

“What do you want?” Lena shut the water off with a snap, turning to face Reyna with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Reyna stared at her.

“I--”

“Why are you here?” Lena demanded. Reyna blinked, as Lena waited for her answer. “Reyna!”

Reyna’s shoulders lifted defensively. “I want _you,_ Lena.”

Lena scoffed, turning back to the sink. She gave her cup and saucer a quick scrub each before shoving them onto the drying rack. She didn’t dare risk drying them while her hands shook so tremulously.

“You know, I have tried really hard to be honest with you.” She roughly dried her hands and threw the towel onto the counter. “The least you can do is return the favor.”

“I _am_ being honest!” Reyna countered, voice lifting sharply, but Lena shook her head.

“No. No, you’re not, because people don’t just want _me_. They want something, and we’ve been friends for months but I can’t for the life of me figure out what you're after. So what is it?”

Reyna stared at her, crestfallen. Lena’s chest cracked open when she saw the hurt in her eyes. She held tight to the anger in her chest; it was better than the uncertainty. Reyna looked away first, her next words coming hardly as a surprise.

“Maybe I should go.”

“Maybe you should.”

Lena meant it to be an added jab, but what came out of her mouth felt like someone knocked the wind out of her chest. Reyna hesitated, hoping Lena would change her mind, but when Lena remained silent she gave a heavy nod and turned to leave. She made it halfway to the door before she turned back, features tight with anger.

“Actually, you know what? No.” Reyna stalked back to the kitchen. “You want to know what I want? Fine.”

Reyna curbed to a stop at the kitchen island, close enough for Lena to feel the anger radiating from her. Lena lifted her chin to face it head on; this was what she expected, and she was ready.

“I want to be the first person to tell you good morning, and the last person you talk to each night. I want to be the person you don’t want to lie to. I want to be the person who brightens your day, just by visiting. I want to be the person you turn to when you’ve had a bad day, and the person who somehow always knows the right thing to say.”

Lena stared, her breath frozen in her chest. Reyna took another step towards her, her piercing gaze rooting Lena to the spot as she continued.

“It may be selfish of me, but so what? We’re allowed to be selfish, Lena. We’re allowed to reach for what we want.” She reached out, her hand hovering over Lena's for a brief moment before thinking better of it. She rested her palm on the marble next to Lena's with a sigh. “You’re already all of that for me. I want to be that for you.”

Lena’s breath caught in her throat, barely able to squeak past the lump in it.

“I’m sorry if the L-word freaked you out,” Reyna continued, voice sharpening as anger edge back into her tone. “I didn’t say it to put you on the spot, or to hear it back-- I grew up in a world where waiting even one more day to tell someone how you felt could mean losing them forever, and I will _not_ apologize for saying it now, because it seemed to me like you desperately needed to hear it!”

Reyna’s voice lifted into a shout, the sound loud in the large kitchen. Lena stood there, frozen, unable to move as Reyna softened abruptly. A long moment passed, as Reyna gave Lena time to respond, but she couldn’t. She could barely breathe. Reyna gently took her hand, and Lena gripped her fingers tightly.

“I _will_ admit,” she continued softly, “that there a lot of things about you that I don’t understand. But I want to, if you’ll give me the chance.”

For a long moment, they simply stood there in the middle of the kitchen, breathing sharply. When Lena still didn’t respond, Reyna bowed her head. “If you still want me to go, I will--”

Lena tightened her grip on Reyna’s fingers sharply. “No--” she ground out. “Don’t. I--”

Her voice gave out, and she turned her eyes to the ceiling to blink the tears away. Reyna’s hand trailed the outside of her arm. “Lena…”

When Reyna opened her arms, Lena stepped into them, trembling. “I’m sorry…” Lena murmured into her shoulder. Reyna nodded, hugging her fiercely until the sting of tears faded, and the ball of tension melted from Lena’s chest. As the tightness eased Lena sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“I really like you, Lena.”

“I like you too,” Lena returned with a thick swallow. She felt Reyna’s cheeks tighten into a smile against her head. “Spending time with you has made me really, _really_ happy. You make me…” She trailed off, remembering herself.

Reyna didn’t let her get away so easy. “I make you what?”

“Forget,” Lena sighed.

Reyna’s ribs expanded with air as she took a breath to push further… and then released it, keeping her questions to herself. Without an assault to defend against, Lena felt another wall come crumbling down. Her eyes burned as the truth came bubbling up past the painful lump in her throat.

“You make me forget..." She swallowed, and took another breath to steady herself. "...that I don’t deserve it.”

Reyna’s arms tightened around her, the only response she could muster, and the only response Lena needed. She leaned her forehead against Reyna's neck, felt her pulse beat in time with the soft circles Reyna rubbed against her back. Slowly, the pain in Lena's chest eased, and the lump in her throat started to dissolve. When the clock in the next room chimed the hour, Lena finally pulled back, wiping her eyes with a watery grin.

“You should go,” she said. Reyna’s lips pursed with an almost smile, prompting a grimace as Lena realized what she’d said. She cleared her throat with a sniff, wiping her eyes.

“I mean you should probably change before work,” she elaborated. Her voice was still rough, but sounded bright enough to lift the heavy mood.

"Oh,” Reyna blinked, staring down at herself. She shot Lena a charming smile. "The office probably wouldn't appreciate my penguin pj’s, huh?"

"Not as much as I do." Lena smirked. The gloom lifted further, and suddenly it felt like any other day. She caught Reyna’s eye, and knew that they were okay. "I'd offer you my closet, but I don't think those giraffe legs of yours will fit anything of mine."

Reyna's grin turned devilish, gleaming at the sudden levity. "Challenge accepted!" she chirped, prancing back towards the bedroom.

Lena watched her go, and in the moment to herself she dampened the dishtowel she’d thrown aside and dampened it before pressing it to her stinging eyes. For several moments there was nothing but silence and the ticking clock, and then--

"I think I might be able to get capris out of some of these!" Reyna called from the closet, her voice muffled.

"Oh, _please!_ " Lena called backed indignantly, pulling the towel away. She wasn't _that_ short. "High waters, maybe."

"Care to rethink your position?" Reyna's voice came much clearer as she stepped out from the bedroom fully dressed. She'd paired a loose blouse with a pair of tailored pants, hiked up on her hips with a narrow belt. They stopped well short of her ankles, and drooped awkwardly around her hips, but Lena could barely tear her eyes away. She was…

Lena snorted at the sight of Reyna's feet, still covered by the pink fuzzy slippers she'd arrived in. Reyna followed her gaze down and shrugged, creasing into a smile.

"Yeah, I wasn't about to even try wearing your shoes. Though I saw a pair of Doc Martens, which brings up _so_ many questions--"

"No, I think you should definitely keep the slippers. It really ties the outfit together." Lena lifted a demonstrative eyebrow when Reyna scrunched her nose at her. Fuzzy slippers scuffed against the floor to bring Reyna back to the island. As Reyna swallowed the last of her now-cold tea, Lena slid her hand along the marble until their fingers met. Reyna looked at her, mirth quickly softening to concern.

“Is there any way you could play hooky for a day?” Reyna asked. “You did just save the company.”

“I’m late as it is,” Lena said with a shake of her head. She’d dodged a bullet, and maybe saved her job, but the eyes of the board would still be on her for quite some time, waiting for her to slip up again. “But I should be able to leave on time tonight.”

“On time being… seven? Eight?” Reyna teased.

Lena flushed. “Something like that. Do you…” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat to cover it. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

Her heart jumped in her chest when Reyna beamed. “You bet your ass I would,” came the ready response. Reyna sidled closer, trailing her hand up Lena’s arm. “Where do you think we could go where you won’t be mobbed by reporters?”

Lena blinked, the moment shattered by the reminder of the day before. “Oh.” She sighed. “Nowhere, probably.” _Damn it._

“Even better,” Reyna quickly followed. “How about you come over to my place? I can make my mom’s famous meatloaf.”

A smile tugged on Lena’s lips in spite of herself. “Meatloaf? Really?”

“Well, no. I don’t like meatloaf, and I don’t have a mom, but if you like it I’ll figure it out.”

Lena stepped in to meet Reyna, letting their thighs touch. “How about I cook?”

“Sold.”

“You bring the dessert.”

Reyna’s gaze slid languidly down Lena’s frame. She gave Lena a salacious grin as gentle fingers brushed Lena’s ribs, just shy of her left breast. Lena’s breath caught silently when Reyna’s eyes met hers, with as much intensity as they had that night in the club.

“Oh, babe,” Reyna purred. “I’ve had dessert worked out for ages.”


	12. Chapter 12

An unexpected cold snap hit National City a week after Thanksgiving, curling residents’ breaths into strands of smoke, and hiking their shoulders up around their ears. When Kara followed James out of Noonan’s one evening after work and saw him tug his coat tighter around his scarf, she mimicked the motion on reflex. She didn’t feel the cold, but enough people had griped at CatCo that Kara knew to feign a chill.

“Thanks for coming with me, James,” she said, giving him a small smile.

James gave her a playful nudge. “You know you never have to ask me twice, Kara. I’ve missed hanging out with you.”

Things had slowly edge back towards normal in the months following her fallout with Lena. Sister nights had resumed, both with Maggie and without, and she had reached a new equilibrium with Alex. Winn had been the easiest to make things right with, with James following quickly. The only part of her life still in turmoil was Lena, who she had yet to hear from.

As though sensing her thoughts, James’ features softened. “Have you heard from Lena?”

While Kara doubted that James was certain of Lena’s motives, he and everyone else couldn’t deny the good she’d done in the city. From the restoration projects, to the massive donations to youth sports leagues over the summer to keep the children occupied while their daycares and clubs were repaired, to the recently announced toy drive to benefit the families still living in decimated areas the city hadn’t gotten to yet, Lena and L-Corp had become synonymous with charity.

CatCo was still on the outs, welcome only to the public press releases attended by every media outlet, but when a reporter had mentioned the way the scandal surrounding the detection device had faded so quickly, Cat had smiled knowingly.

“When I worked for the Daily Planet, a competitor published an article about a closed-door defense contract signed between the federal government and LuthorCorp. This was before the company had any weapons division to speak, and the reveal shook the entire industry. Everyone was convinced that Luthor was going to drive his company into the ground. Do you know what happened?”

“Luthor doubled down and allocated double the funding towards weapons research, out of spite,” Snapper responded. “Four months later a Marine base in Kasnia was attacked, and the country went to war. LuthorCorp became the single biggest defense contractor overnight, and skyrocketed to the top of the Fortune 500 list.”

Cat had nodded, gesturing towards the televisions behind her desk where several channels replayed Lena’s most recent appearance. Kara had let her gaze linger, until the report switched back to the anchor desk moments later. “He took their reservations and made it a cornerstone of his company. Lena is more her father’s daughter than anyone ever gave her credit for. They accused her of being a bleeding heart pro-alien do-gooder, and she ran with it.” Cat had shrugged then. “I won’t be surprised if L-Corp is awarded the Goodwill Award this year.”

Sure enough, the mayor announced L-Corp as National City’s 50th recipient of the annual Goodwill Award less than three weeks later.

Even now, Kara felt her cheeks warm with pride. Finally, the world was starting to see what she’d known all along. But in that time, Kara hadn’t heard a single word from Lena. Since their last talk at Lena’s apartment, it had been radio silence and Kara-- determined to let Lena be the first to reach out-- had forced herself to let it be.

She gave James a shake of her head. “No.”

“I’m sorry,” he offered. “I know that must be difficult.”

Kara shrugged, pulling her bag higher on her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter.”

“She’ll come around,” he insisted. His eyebrows shrugged. “We did, didn’t we?”

Nodding, Kara swallowed against the lump in her throat. She was lucky to have him-- to _still_ have him, after the way they’d ended and the way Kara had reacted to him taking up Guardian’s shield. At the time, she’d seen only the danger, and the secrets he’d kept in hiding the truth from her for so long. Now, almost a year later, she saw the way he’d grown more at ease with himself, the way he seemed to fit better in his own life now that he had found his calling.

Part of her envied him. Becoming Supergirl had given her a way to be herself, but ever since she saved Alex’s plane she’d struggled to keep the two facets of her life separate. James didn’t seem to share the same juggling act. But under the jealousy, and the early resentment she’d harbored, Kara had never truly believed it would drive them apart for good. But now? After three months without a single word of contact from Lena, Kara knew how lucky she was to still have him in her life.

“I’ll see you at game night tomorrow?” she asked, steering the conversation away from the hole in her heart. James thankfully took the hint.

“Wouldn’t miss it!” He opened his arms for a parting hug, which Kara immediately accepted. “See you tomorrow.”

Kara watched him go, before turning to begin her long walk north to meet Alex and Maggie for dinner. _Second-dinner_ , as Winn liked to tease. The sky grew darker as she walked, and soon the street lamps flickered on. Christmas garlands had gone up the week before, adorning every streetlamp with artificial pine and strings of lights. As the sun faded, the city came to life with holiday cheer.

Six months ago, Kara might have thought she’d celebrate part of the holiday with Lena. Game night might have been a little too awkward, with James still doubtful of Lena’s motivations and the fact that Lena would be the only one unaware of Supergirl’s secret. But the holiday party? Definitely on her list of expectations six months ago, but not anymore.

Kara had slowly grown accustomed to the void Lena used to fill. For weeks she'd gone blocks out of her way to avoid the L-Corp building. But as months passed, she was able to walk the length of Cordova Street without speeding past or ducking her head. She still felt a lurch in her chest whenever she neared, and braced herself for the chance they might run into each other, but they never had.

Tonight, Kara slowed to a stop for the first time to admire the large tree standing in L-Corp’s lobby. It rose tall and breathtaking, adorned in ribbons of silver and blue, with ball ornaments glinting with the shine of bright holiday lights nestled on the boughs. Employees were still making their way out of the building in waves, laughing and smiling as they parted ways for the evening.

With one last glance towards the festive pine, Kara turned to leave just as the heavy glass doors opened to release another wave of people onto the pavement. In the muddle of voices saying goodbye and fingers tapping on phone screens to let their families know they were headed home, Kara almost missed the familiar click of high heels on polished marble. Almost.

A glimpse of forest green coat caught Kara's eye, stopping her in her tracks. The crowd eddied around a familiar figure, then peeled away to nothing, revealing Lena Luthor in stunning clarity. Kara watched unseen as Lena slowed to a stop just shy of the main sidewalk. She stood there for a long moment, hands tucked into the pockets of her coat.

The heaviness that had enshrouded her that night in her apartment was nowhere to be found. Lena looked well-rested, and the exhausted shadows under her eyes had disappeared. A healthy flush rose to her cheeks in the chill of the evening air, giving her a warm glow as she turned her chin up, closing her eyes to fill her lungs with crisp winter air. Kara heard the quiet huff as she released the breath a moment later, and sensed the happiness that laced the soft sound.

Suddenly uncomfortable spying on such a quiet moment, Kara shifted awkwardly, causing her shoe to scuff the ground in an audible scrape. Lena's eyes flew to Kara. In an instant, Kara was rooted to the spot. She froze, a nervous smile pulling at her lips.

“Lena, hi,” she greeted, waking a voice suddenly tight with nerves. For a tense moment, nothing happened. Then, Lena turned halfway towards her, and the door that had slammed shut between them months ago creaked back open.

Kara resisted the urge to close the distance between them, and cleared her throat. “I, um-- I  heard about the Goodwill Award. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Green eyes regarded her without expression. Lena didn’t move, save the faint rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. She gave nothing for Kara to go off, no way to know what Lena was thinking. She hadn’t really noticed how expressive Lena usually was until that moment. Now she felt the difference like a blow from Draaga.

Kara swallowed. “I, um--  I’m just gonna…” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder, and turned to leave.

“That’s it?”

Lena’s low voice stopped Kara in her tracks. Turning back, Kara met a gaze that sparkled with the reflections of Christmas lights, and a familiar arched brow. Lena’s hands spread in a muted shrug, still in the pockets of her coat.

“Is that all you have to say?” Lena asked.

Kara took a deep breath, fighting the sudden burn in her throat as she faced her friend. A dozen assurances bubbled up-- she was admiring the tree, she wasn’t lurking, hadn’t been waiting for Lena to come down, like some kind of stalker… None of which Lena had asked to hear, and none of which was what Kara had waited months to say.

“No,” she ground out, around the lump in her throat. “It’s not.”

A car honked behind Lena, pulling Kara’s attention for a fraction of a second. The world hadn’t slowed down around them; it only felt that way. Lena’s gaze didn’t waver. She waited for Kara to continue, watching her intently.

Kara took a deep breath, issuing a silent plea. _Rao, lend me your strength._

“There’s a lot I want to say. Even if I said everything I need to, it wouldn’t be enough. You’re my best friend, and the way I treated you--” Her throat closed up, and it took her a moment to work her voice loose again.

Lena waited, silent.

“Part of me knows there’s nothing I can say or do to make it right,” Kara continued, her voice shaking. “But I would never forgive myself if I didn’t try. I just-- I’m asking for a chance.”

Part of Kara, the part of her still raw even after months of soul-searching and healing her connections with friends and family, wanted to bolt into the nearest alley and take to the skies. Anything to escape the intensity of Lena’s gaze and the chance she would laugh in Kara’s face or curse her name. But she forced herself to remain where she was. If she couldn’t move past what she had done, how could she expect Lena to?

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Kara’s eyes flew to Lena, whose features visibly softened. Tension bled from her as she briefly ducked her chin, breaking eye contact for the first time since Kara started talking.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” Lena confessed.

Scrambling for her phone, Kara’s hands shook. “I-- I never got anything, I’m sorry, I would have--”

“No, I mean--” Lena huffed lightly, sheepish. “I’ve been pulling out my phone and staring at your number for the past two weeks.”

A surprised grin curled the very corners of Kara’s mouth. Of all the things she’d imagined Lena might say, this hadn’t been anywhere on her list. Hope flared deep in her chest, but she swallowed it down before it could spill out of her.

Lena sighed in the ensuing silence. “I’m not good at this...”

Kara blinked. “At what?”

“Mending bridges.”

The air around Kara thinned: she suddenly felt breathless, even as her heart threatened to climb up her throat. She stared, until her eyes began to water and it felt as though a stiff breeze could knock her over.

Lena shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “I was unfair to you.”

“What?” Kara suddenly found her voice again. “Lena, no--”

“I was.” Lena’s chin tilted. “You were the first person I ever wanted to share anything with, and in the process you and your friendship ended up on a pedestal. I never meant for that to happen-- and I shouldn’t have expected you to feel the same way.”

Heart thundering in her chest, Kara shook her head. “I do feel the same way, Lena. I have _never_ clicked with anyone so quickly before, and since you moved here you’ve become the one person I can just be Kara Danvers with. I can’t-- I can’t tell you how much that means to me…”

“But it didn’t give you room to be honest with me,” Lena said. “I don’t know why you assumed the worst about Reyna, but I know that’s not who you are. There was something else bothering you, and instead of just talking to me about it, you went after Reyna, and I just---”

Lena cut herself off, lips pressing into a thin line as she shook her head. Her jaw tightened, and Kara could see the tension creeping into her lines of her face and neck. Lena’s gaze drifted, scanning the faces of those who passed as she gave herself time to gather her thoughts and let the worst of her bitterness fade.

“I don’t know if this thing with Reyna will last,” Lena said finally. She ducked her chin, offering a helpless shrug. “Nothing ever has. But whether it does or not, I don’t need you to run interference for me. I don’t need you to be my relationship guru, or my personal cheerleader. All I want-- I just wanted you to be the friend that _stayed_.”

Lena’s voice wavered uncertainly, as though she asked for the sun, not the bare minimum of friendship. Kara’s eyes filled with tears when Lena’s lips pressed tight against the slightest quiver, and the moisture gathering at her lashes sparkled in the streetlights. A deep pain ached inside Kara's ribs, just as it had that day in the field when Mon-el had lifted off in her pod-- the way it had the night her parents sent her away from Krypton in that same pod, twelve years before.

She should have gone to Lena as soon as Mon-el left. Lena would have understood. Lena knew the particular ache of wondering what could have been, if only granted more time. The face of Jack Spheer flashed unbidden through Kara’s mind: a bright grin and warm eyes that gazed at Lena like she hung the stars every night. Then, abruptly, she recalled the look on Lena’s face when she held Jack’s hand as he died. Kara had witnessed the exact moment Lena clicked off, between the medics pushing her aside and the police converging to question her. The disconnect had lingered until Kara had visited her in her office, hoping to piece some of her friend back together. Kara remembered, vaguely, trying to reconcile the blank, vacant expression Lena wore that night with the grin that had considered a double date less than 48 hours earlier.

Lena would have understood.

To her shame, Kara couldn’t remember when Lena’s fog had cleared. Alex had gone missing soon after, and then Lena had gotten wrapped up in a new top secret project-- by the time they’d shared lunch at CatCo, Lena seemed her old self again. A new anger burned in the pit of Kara’s stomach: at Rhea, who had targeted Lena while she was grieving; and herself, for leaving Lena alone long enough for Rhea to get to her.

Kara had failed Lena long before she printed that article.

The tears on Kara’s lashes chilled in the evening air, rapidly dwindling to full dark. “I want to be that for you, Lena,” she said. “I do.”

Lena shook her head, gaze darkening. “I don’t know if it’s that simple,” she said, pressing her eyes shut. “You put L-Corp at _serious_ risk…”

“I know.”

Kara had no excuse. The fact that L-Corp had rebounded did nothing to change the fact that it had been in danger in the first place, and Lena had only Kara’s word that it wouldn’t happen again. In Lena’s place, Kara didn’t know if that would be enough for her either-- not when L-Corp meant as much as it did.

“I don’t know if I can just forgive that,” Lena continued.

In an instant the momentary hope that sparked when Lena had spoken to her doused completely. Kara shut her eyes. So that was it. Her throat locked tight, and she could barely breathe past the knot of anguish curling in her chest. At least… At least she had her answer.

“But maybe I can move past it.”

Kara’s eyes flew open at the soft admission. Lena stood there still, shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug. “I’m willing to try, if you are.”

“Yes!” Elation rose in Kara’s chest, escaping in a burst of breath just shy of a sob. She nodded. “I am. Willing. I want that more than anything.”

Lena released a tense breath. She didn’t quite smile, but a weight lifted, leaving her noticeably lighter. “Okay.”

For several long moments, neither of them said anything. The night sounds of the city washed over them; the sidewalk had mostly cleared and what few passersby remained gave them a wide berth. As a result, the physical distance between them seemed like miles, but after the first honest exchange between them-- free of hurt and anger-- Kara finally felt the connection between them come alive. It was weak, and tenuous, but there.

“Can I--” Kara’s voice caught. “Would you like to do dinner? There’s a new place that opened up--”

Lena gave her a thin smile. "I already have plans."  
  
"Oh. Right. Of course." Kara flushed. Why else would Lena be leaving the office before six? “Sorry.”  
  
"I have some time Thursday morning,” Lena offered gently. “How about coffee?”

Once upon a time, a coffee date with Lena could span hours, if Lena’s schedule allowed it. But on a weekday, the safety net of a full day of work to follow wasn’t lost on Kara. If the meeting didn’t feel right, if Lena changed her mind at any time, she had a ready excuse to leave early. Kara couldn’t totally blame her for hedging her bets, despite the sharp pang of hurt that shot through her chest.

Kara nodded quickly, eager to accept whatever Lena offered. "Sounds great."  
  
Lena's gaze tracked over Kara's shoulder, warming significantly. Kara’s chest bubbled at the bright smile that curled her lips, before she realized that the smile wasn’t for her at all, but someone who’d caught Lena’s eye over Kara’s shoulder. Kara didn’t need to guess who it was. She followed Lena’s gaze to where Reyna drew to a stop a discrete distance away.  
  
"I have to go," Lena said gently, turning her gaze back to Kara. Her smile dimmed slightly, a mere after-image of the blinding grin she’d given Reyna. "Noonan’s at 8?"  
  
Kara nodded again, forcing a smile. "It's a date. _Plan!_ It’s a plan." Her cheeks heated, but Lena either didn't notice or pretended not to.  
  
Lena nodded. “Great.”

Her heart thumped so loud she was sure Lena could hear it as she passed. Just as Lena came even with her, Kara nearly jumped out of her skin when Lena’s hand clasped her wrist firmly. Their eyes met, Lena’s intense gaze unnerving in the growing dark.

"You will never interview me again," Lena told her.

Lena’s tone was gentler than Kara deserved, but gave no room for negotiation. Even if L-Corp granted CatCo internal access again, the message was clear: they could be friends, or nothing at all. Their time as professional acquaintances was long past. Kara nodded, and Lena’s gaze softened, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"See you Thursday," Lena told her, releasing Kara's wrist and tucking her hand back in her pocket.

Kara turned to watch her go, and even from behind she could see Lena's cheeks spread in a wide smile. Reyna's gaze flashed once to Kara, but then turned her attention entirely to Lena. When Lena casually winged an elbow out, Reyna threaded her arm through it with a smile, bringing their sides flush as they matched strides down the street.

"Everything okay?" Reyna asked in a low voice, bringing her lips close to Lena’s ear as she brushed a kiss against her cheek. Her voice carried clearly to Kara’s ears, and was followed by a soft sigh from Lena.

"I don't know," Lena murmured, revealing a lack of confidence she’d hidden from Kara. Kara pressed her eyes shut and turned away, but couldn’t help hearing the rustle of fabric as Lena leaned into Reyna’s shoulder. "But maybe it will be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before the flood of outrage comes at this being the final chapter, I know there hasn't been much ReignCorp. It kinda turned into a piece on Lena and Kara's friendship more than Lena's relationship with Reyna. But I want you to know that I have a few 'deleted scenes' chapters that will be posted here as add-ons, and a possible sequel (the sequel will be written before it's posted, because this arbitrary update schedule is giving me hives) that will focus more on what's between Lena and Reign.
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking around! I've loved getting your feedback.


	13. Deleted Scene #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This deleted scene was originally intended to sit between Chapters 5 & 6\. Lena and Reyna kissed at Glow, TMI printed their article, and Kara saw said article and let it crawl under her skin. The chapter starts the morning after Glow, and progresses through Reyna's day while Kara and Lena are having their first confrontation, ending before Kara is busted about violating off-the-record.

When Reyna’s day started with a phone call from Lena, memories of the night before came flooding into her booze-clouded mind. The smell of alcohol and sweat hung on her skin, and her pounding head pulsed with the echo of a beat and her mouth tingled with the remembered press of Lena’s lips on hers. _Not a dream._

They shared a good laugh over _TMI’s_ headline, but all Reyna could think about was seeing Lena again.

“Are you free tonight?” she blurted, still trailing a laugh to cover her sudden apprehension. She couldn't remember how much Lena'd had to drink-- what if she regretted their kiss? The other end of the line fell quiet, and then Lena’s answer came low and silky.

“For you? I certainly could be.”

After that, every cell seemed to vibrate in anticipation. Reyna’s resulting smile lasted all the way to work, where she found a new decoration for her desk in the form of the  _TMI_ cover hastily stuffed into a cheap plastic frame, with childish hearts scribbled around her head and Lena’s. Her art director Lenny eyed her over the rim of his coffee cup, unable to hide his grin as he waited for her reaction. He burst out laughing when Reyna grabbed a permanent marker and added “LL + RK” to the largest of the hearts, and then proudly mounted it on the corner of her desk.

“I didn’t think _TMI_ could turn news into NOT news, but they did,” Lenny drawled when he caught his breath. “So congratulations on being the hottest piece of not-news since Hillary’s emails.”

Over the course of the day, Reyna flipped the frame around on her desk, so that the picture faced her instead of the bullpen. The joke went stale by lunch, but Reyna’s heart skipped a beat every time her eye caught on it. Her happiness, and Lena’s, were palpable through the glass. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Lena smile so unabashedly. Warmth pooled in her chest the longer she looked at it.

She was so hooked.

Around two o’clock, Reyna’s cheer soured with a single buzz from her phone. A text.

From Lena.

_LENA: Can’t make it tonight. Stuck at work._

Almost immediately, Reyna started replaying their last phone call in her head, searching for anything that might have upset Lena, anything that could have prompted the last-minute backout. Then she shook herself with a silent scold. Lena was the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company. It was a miracle she hadn’t missed a date yet. It sucked that this was the first time, but the fact that it was their first official date being postponed didn’t have to _mean_ anything. Reyna closed her eyes and heard Lena’s voice in her ear, the low ‘can’t wait’ that had thrummed in her ear.

No, Lena wasn’t ghosting her. She was simply busy, and she’d even given several hours heads up so that Reyna wouldn’t be waiting at the restaurant. Reyna then swallowed a gasp as an idea occurred her. With a grin, she sent a response.

_REYNA: Say no more!_

She managed to keep herself occupied late that night as well, biding her time with busy work and then assisting the art director with layouts until almost 8pm. As she eventually gathered up her things, Reyna placed a quick call to _Lucenzo’s_. By the time she reached the restaurant, the take out order was ready, and with a smile Reyna bundled herself and the large brown paper bag into a cab and shuttled towards L-Corp.

The building sat eerily quiet in the dark; the lobby lights were dimmed when Reyna wrestled the door open, and only two security guards were on duty at the desk. Reyna shot them a grin while gesturing upwards with the large bag of food. They gave an amused wave, preserving the silence of the sleepy atrium. The executive floor was equally deserted, and just as ill-lit. For a brief second, Reyna hesitated-- what if Lena had gone home? But then she heard a rustle of movement inside Lena’s office, a soft voice followed by the click of a phone returning to its cradle.

Reyna knocked twice before opening the door, determined to slip in before Lena could get on another call. Lena’s head shot up in alarm, eyes glinting in the low light as Reyna gave a short wave on her way towards the sofa.

“Just me!” Reyna announced. She hefted the bag of food. “I come bearing gifts.”

She set the bags on the coffee table in front of the sofa, just as she had done for countless lunches. She pretended her hands weren’t trembling; it was just a normal day. Last night seemed a lifetime away, but her lips tingled with the specter of Lena’s lips pressed against hers.

“I brought dinner. I know you said you were busy, so I promise I won’t stay if you need to focus, but I wanted to be sure you got at least one decent meal today. Plus--” Her breath caught. “I really wanted to see you.”

Reyna turned to face her, and found Lena coming stiffly around her desk to meet her. In one look, Reyna’s blood ran cold. Lena’s eyes were dark and inscrutable, some invisible wall erected to hide the animated enthusiasm that had characterized all of their dates so far. In the next moment Reyna recognized the stiff spine and tight grip Lena’s fingers had on her folded arms as anger. Suddenly she realized that there had been a boundary, and she’d crossed it.

Heart dropping to her shoes, Reyna swallowed thickly as hurt and disappointment flooded her cheeks with heat.

“But you don’t want to see me.”

She dragged a hand through her hair, cursing. “ _Shit._ I should have checked with you first. I didn’t even think--” They’d done the same thing for so many lunches, she hadn’t thought twice arriving unannounced. Lena didn’t respond. “I’m just-- I’m just gonna go. I’m so sorry.”

She grabbed her purse and turned to leave, forfeiting the food for the sake of a speedy exit. She didn’t make it a single step before Lena caught her wrist, tight and sharp before softening. Reyna froze, hiding the tears starting to build behind her eyes. Lena’s palm trailed softly down her arm to hold her hand.

_“I’m sorry.”_

Lena’s voice came soft and deep-- a far cry from the anger Reyna had glimpsed a heartbeat ago. Reyna turned to face her again, hesitant, but relaxed slightly when she found the shuttered mask had vanished to reveal a more familiar, expressive Lena. Her arms had unfolded, her shoulders relaxed, and her forehead crinkled in apology.

Reyna offered a relieved smile, still shaken. “It’s okay,” she said. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and last night was--”

“Amazing.” Lena's warmth returned in the form of a broad smile that set Reyna’s stomach to fluttering. “I had an amazing time last night.”

Reyna sighed. “Me too.” She let herself turn the rest of the way, grasping Lena’s palm in hers. “Is everything okay?”

For a moment, she wondered if maybe the tabloid had gotten under Lena’s skin despite her acceptance of it that morning on the phone. But the more Reyna studied her, the more worn Lena seemed; grated down until only a sliver of her normal energy remained. A silly magazine like _TMI_ couldn’t have bothered her that much.

“Fine,” Lena told her. Reyna saw and heard the hesitation that gave away her fib, but didn’t pursue it further.

“If you’re busy, I can go,” she promised. “I didn’t mean to distract you.”

Lena hung her head in shame. “Work was just an excuse,” she confessed. “I-- It’s been a rough day, and I’ve been spoiling for a fight all afternoon. I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

“Oh.” That explained Lena’s reaction when she barged in, but-- she’d pulled it back, for Reyna. In fact, Reyna couldn’t find a single trace of that anger remaining. “Do you still feel like that now?”

Lena shook her head, giving Reyna’s hand another squeeze. A warm buzz traveled up Reyna’s arm, and she felt herself melt when Lena smiled.

“Turns out you’re a good remedy for a bad mood,” Lena said. Her right shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I may not be good company tonight, but if you don’t mind surly silence while we eat-- I would very much like to have dinner with you.”

Reyna’s heart pounded so loud she barely heard Lena. But she saw the soft, hopeful smile, felt the warmth of the hand in hers, and was convinced that whatever was bothering Lena, it wasn’t about them. That was enough for her.

“Sounds like you had a ‘gimme carbs’ kind of day,” she observed, affecting a bright effervescence. She tugged on Lena’s hand, drawing her over to the sofa. “Good thing I got that spicy chicken penne you like.”

“You went to _Lucenzo’s_?” If Lena sounded pleasantly surprised, Reyna didn’t mind.

“I didn’t think kombucha would travel well,” Reyna joked. The first box she handed over was heavy, and fragrant even with the lid on. “Your penne. And I got us double garlic bread! And something special for dessert.”

Lena absently opened her takeout container, her eyes following Reyna as she moved. She didn’t pick up her fork until Reyna had settled in next to her, cradling her own cedar-grilled salmon. They ate in silence for several minutes, until Reyna realized that after her first few bites, Lena had simply started pushing her food around in its tray. Her expression had closed again, but her eyes glistened, and the corners of her mouth pulled down by a fraction.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Lena glanced at her, as though surprised by the question, only for her gaze to fall away a heartbeat later. She shook her head no, and Reyna nodded. “Okay.”

Being shut out sucked, but it was still early. They’d barely graduated from friends to-- kissers? They certainly weren’t lovers yet. Or at least, Reyna didn’t know if Lena was. Reyna was pretty certain she was hooked, in best and worst way possible. Lena's lips pressed together, her gaze darkening.

“The night we met,” Lena said, her voice low, “you mentioned you had a friend in Metropolis. And that at some point, you realized that they didn’t value your friendship as much as you valued theirs.”

Reyna nodded. “Yeah.”

Lena took a breath, as though to say more. But then she only nodded heavily, wordlessly confirming that she now understood what that meant. That she too had come to the breaking point with a friend. To Reyna’s knowledge, there was only one friend close enough for such a realization to come as a surprise, and only one person Lena cared for enough for it to matter.

“Lena, I’m so sorry…”

Lena shook her head, stabbing a noodle with her fork. “It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t have been a surprise.” She shrugged. “I guess I just didn’t want to believe it.”

Reyna reached over to take her hand, and Lena’s fingers curled around hers. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked softly.

Finally, Lena’s features eased into a tired smile. “You already did. Apparently translating a ‘can’t make dinner’ text into ‘invite yourself into my office at 8pm’ was the magic cure.”

Reyna flushed, but remained unapologetic. “I’ll warn you next time,” she conceded. She grimaced. “Or y’know… maybe just ask.”

Lena smirked, and opened her mouth to respond, only to freeze when a loud thump crashed against the outside of her office door. Reyna jumped in her seat, only registering a moment later that Lena’s hand had curled around her wrist, calm and steady even as every muscle in her body seemed to lock tight.

Reyna relaxed when the thump came again, softer, and trailed by the hum of an industrial vacuum cleaner. She sighed, almost laughing, and turned to find Lena stiff as a board still, spine rigid, listening closely.

Reyna gave the hand on her wrist a pat, breaking Lena’s intense stare as she blinked. “It’s kind of creepy here at night, huh?” Reyna joked.

Lena swallowed thickly, retracting her hand from Reyna's wrist. “They still don’t know who bombed the dedication ceremony,” she said. Reyna blinked, shocked. “It was probably a statement against Supergirl, or aliens in general, but… it could not be.”

Could not be? As in, it could be an attempt on Lena’s life. Reyna's heart started to pound. _Jesus Christ_. Lena gave her a smile, dismissing her own concerns even as Reyna struggled to wrap her brain around them. Reyna jumped again a moment later when Lena’s hand settled on her knee.

“Let’s get out of here,” Lena said softly.

Reyna choked out a laugh, snapping the lid back on her food and shoving it back in the bag. She didn’t need to be asked twice.

“Gladly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ultimately, I chose not to include this chapter because it disrupted the flow of the story-- I wanted it to read as one thing hitting Kara after another, boom boom boom. This scene, while sweet and a beautiful development to Lena's struggle to be honest with Reyna and break her usual habit of pushing people away, was just too relaxed to exist in its original place, and didn't feel right anywhere else.


	14. Deleted Scene #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all wanted ReignCorp? I'm pretty sure I've redeemed myself here. 
> 
> Set after the morning Reyna wakes up in Lena's apartment. I tentatively titled this "Dinner and 'Dessert'". Rated M for MATURE content, folks. That's right, here comes the sexy stuff.

True to her word, Lena arrived at Reyna’s apartment at 6:55 on the dot. The armful of groceries wasn’t entirely unexpected, as Lena hadn’t shared what she’d be making and hadn’t checked to see what Reyna had on hand. The very expensive, very clean skirt and blouse she still wore was another story entirely.

“Sorry, I know,” Lena greeted when she saw Reyna’s curious inspection. “I was going to change, but going all the way back to my place for casual clothes would have put me here closer to eight, and I didn’t want to keep you waiting...”

Reyna grinned, relieved to hear the animation in Lena’s voice. The night before, she’d almost been a zombie. Some rest and a quiet day seemed to have worked wonders. She nudged the door open the rest of the way.

“Come on in,” she invited. “You won’t get too dirty, will you?”

“If you have an apron it should be okay.” Lena hefted her groceries. “Can I put these on the counter?”

“Oh! Yeah, of course! Here, let me help.” Reyna took half and led the way to the kitchen-- a depressingly small number of steps from her front door. After seeing Lena’s place, Reyna was acutely aware of the tight quarters in her modest apartment.

“I don’t have an apron,” she said a moment later, once the food was piled on her counter, “but I think I can do you one better. Just a second.”

She trotted into the bedroom ( _freshly cleaned with new linens on the bed, thank you very much_ ), and when she re-emerged a few moments later with pajamas in hand, she found Lena surveying the apartment with a small smile.

“It’s not much,” Reyna pre-empted. “I like it okay, though.”

“I love it,” Lena said. “Somehow it’s exactly what I imagined for you.”

Reyna snorted, handing over the clothes. “What, cramped and tiny?”

“Homey.”

Lena accepted the clothes, excusing herself with a smile. Reyna stared after her, then turned an eye to her kitchen and living room. She’d never thought of her photographs and quilts as anything more than clutter-- half the friends in the photos she rarely spoke to anymore, but… they were memories. Come to think of it, the only personal items she’d seen in Lena’s apartment were the books sitting half-read on Lena’s bedside table. Reyna hadn’t noticed a single photo or painting that seemed to mean anything personal.

“Is this payback for our bet this morning?”

Lena stepped back into view, rolling up the waistband on Reyna’s old basketball shorts until they hung to mid-thigh rather than below her knees.

Reyna chewed her lip to keep from smiling. “Absolutely not,” she vowed, even as she puzzled how to sneak a photo before dinner. No one would believe Lena Luthor had cooked dinner in a ratty band t-shirt and gym shorts. Not that anyone would know anyway. For posterity, then.

Lena eyed her, but didn’t challenge her. “You hungry?”

“God, yes.” Reyna followed her to the kitchen. “Am I allowed to know what we’re having? Or is it a secret?”

“Not much of a secret,” Lena smirked. She plunked a plastic container of rice on the counter between them. Reyna eyed it as Lena continued to unload various vegetables. The front of the box had the word _arborio_ printed in flowing artisanal script.

“We’re having… rice?”

Lena paused, blinking at her. “Technically, yes. More specifically, I’m making risotto. Do you have a large pot? And a medium pot? And a cutting board.”

Luckily, Reyna did have all three. She handed them over, then sat back to watch Lena work. She lasted all of two minutes before getting antsy. “Please tell me there’s something I can do to help,” she groaned.

Lena grinned. “I was hoping you’d ask. Here,” she handed over a large, bulbous vegetable. “Could you cube this? We’ll roast it.”

“Sure.” Reyna hefted it experimentally. “What is it?”

At that, Lena froze, eyeing her in disbelief. “Are you--?” she cut herself off. “It’s a butternut squash.”

“Oh!” Reyna said. “Right. Of course.”

Lena wasn’t fooled in the slightest. “You’ve never seen one, have you?”

“I totally have,” Reyna scoffed, which was at least true. “I’ve just never, you know… had one. Or cubed it.” She rapped her knuckles on the peel. “Do we really eat that?”

Lena creased into a smile. “No.”

Patiently, she walked Reyna through the steps to prepare the squash for roasting, and monitoring her progress as she herself added chicken broth to the rice, one ladleful at a time. The recipe seemed simple enough, but proved time-consuming between the risotto and roasting the squash. By the time they sat down to eat, Lena no longer seemed out of place in Reyna’s kitchen wearing her old gym clothes.

When they had finished dinner, Lena grinned slyly at her from behind her wine glass.

“Now, I believe you promised me dessert?”

An eyebrow arched expectantly as she took a sip, prompting a blush to rise in Reyna’s cheeks. “Uhhh… you do know I didn’t actually mean food, right?”

Lena beamed, nose crinkling. “Yeah, I got that.”

“Oh, good.” Reyna leaned in and captured a kiss. Lena relinquished it readily. She tasted of wine and risotto, and kissed Reyna with an urgency that surprised her. Taking her cues from Lena, Reyna drew them towards the bedroom, letting kisses spread to petting, then stroking. When the back of her knees hit the bed, Reyna dropped onto it to catch her breath.

“Do-- do you need to… get ready?” she gasped.

“I’ve been ready for hours,” Lena murmured, straddling Reyna’s lap as she snagged another deep kiss.

“I mean--” Reyna fished for the right words, which quickly escaped her as desire took over.

“You mean, lingerie, make-up, the works?” Lena supplied. Reyna nodded. Lena plucked at the collar of her borrowed band t-shirt. “I think that ship has already sailed, don’t you?”

Grinning, Reyna decided that even if she never saw Lena in anything else for the rest of her life, she’d die a happy woman. “I dunno,” she muttered. “You’re pretty much the hottest woman I’ve ever seen right now.”

That damn eyebrow rose again, and Lena peeled the shorts off as if in challenge, with the shirt quickly following, leaving Lena in nothing but skin and lipstick. Reyna’s mouth ran dry.

“I stand corrected,” she choked out. “ _Now_ you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Lena grinned, reaching up to undo the pins securing her hair in a neat twist. “Take your clothes off,” she ordered. Reyna didn’t need to be told twice. She shimmied out of her jeans, and let Lena help remove her shirt. By the time Lena pulled her in to resume kissing, Lena’s hair was down and long, still crunchy with hairspray.

Reyna pulled her onto the bed, maneuvering her around until Lena lay on her back with her head cushioned on a pillow. When Lena’s hand dipped towards Reyna’s groin, Reyna pulled back. She caught Lena’s wrist in one hand, drawing it between them. Questing fingers retracted immediately as green eyes darkened with concern.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Reyna smiled devilishly. “What’s wrong is that tonight is all about you.”

Lena blinked. “O-kay...” She reached for Reyna again, but Reyna held fast.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Reyna chided, nipping Lena’s bottom lip until it turned pink. “Nope. Tonight I’m going to find out what you like best, and _you_ are going to sit back and relax.”

This time, no protest answered her; Lena looked at her from under dark eyelashes, pretty and puzzling, but not arguing. Reyna gave her a sultry smile as she released Lena’s hand.

“Hands on the pillow.”

Lena hesitated, then gamely reached up to grip to the top corners of her pillow, giving a small wiggle of her hips as she settled in. Reyna stared at the long, pale picture she made, dark hair haloed around her head, and felt a jolt of arousal course its way from her chest to her groin. With a smile, she watched as a rosy blush spread down Lena’s chest.

“Wow,” Reyna remarked softly, tapping a finger against the sudden bloom of color. “Is that a good flush or a bad flush?”

“Good,” Lena purred. “Definitely good.” The color pooled further, nearly extending to her ribs.

“Guess we already found something you like.” Reyna straddled Lena’s thighs, leaning in to kiss her as her hands reached up to curl around Lena’s wrists, pressing gently. “You like that?”

“Maybe,” Lena admitted, smiling against Reyna’s lips.

Reyna’s fingers squeezed once, then released her. “We’ll discuss that later,” she promised. “But for tonight, keep them there.”

Lena nodded breathlessly. Trailing a line of kisses down her neck, Reyna let her thigh slide between Lena’s legs, which spread for her invitingly. Her hands brushed soft lines against Lena’s breasts, raising goosebumps on Lena’s pale skin. Reyna split her attention between kissing Lena senseless and teasing her breasts with affection. Every so often, she let her thigh touch against Lena’s folds, until she was slick and ready. Finally, when one tap of Reyna’s thigh made Lena’s hips bucked ever so slightly, drawing a soft whimper to Lena’s lips, Reyna took pity on her. She kissed her way down Lena’s sternum, past her belly button, and down to the tangle of hair between her legs. Lena moaned when Reyna’s tongue gently started probing.

“You’re so beautiful,” Reyna told her, coming up for air. She gave one thigh a rub and a gentle pat. She barely noticed the moisture on her chin from Lena’s arousal, entirely consumed by the flush of Lena’s cheeks and the sharp panting that filled the room around them. “Come when you’re ready, sweetheart.”

“ _A-almost_ ,” Lena grunted, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut.

With a grin, Reyna tucked her chin once more and went in for the kill, letting her teeth gently scrape the rigid bud of Lena’s clitoris. With a gasp and a curse, Lena came undone in her hands, thighs clenching around her ears as Lena’s body stiffened and quivered. Reyna continued her ministrations until Lena relaxed, then worked her way back up to Lena’s shoulder to check in.

“How are we doing?”

“Oh my god,” Lena panted, combing her hair back with one hand. “You’re amazing.”

“Thank you,” Reyna said. She pressed a kiss to Lena’s shoulder. “So are you. Thank you for letting me help you.”

Lena’s response was a moan. Reyna chuckled. “Ready to keep going?”

“God, yes.”

Lena came again less than five minutes later. By the third time, Reyna was so turned on that she came right then and there when Lena sneakily worked her thigh up to bump against her clit. The smug, pleased-with-herself smile that she found when Reyna looked up to scold her stopped the chide in its tracks. All she could do was smile back, and kiss her again.

After Lena’s fourth orgasm, she was too sensitive and too exhausted to continue. With a kiss Reyna left her in bed while she walked naked to the kitchen. With two cool bottles of water in hand, she came back to find Lena sitting up against the wall at the head of the bed, hair tangled and utterly unabashed in her nudity. Reyna paused there in the doorway, smiling at the sight.

“I think I like this look on you,” she said, pulling Lena’s eyes to her. A grin shone back at her.

“That’s one way to say I look thoroughly worked over.” Lena accepted the water Reyna handed her. “Thank you.”

“You look happier.”

Lena nodded, taking a long swig of water. “Feels like I can breathe again.” She leaned into Reyna’s shoulder once she’d sat down beside her. “Thank you for taking my mind off things.”

“Any time.”

When they had cooled down enough, Lena spent the night. As Reyna lay there, Reyna felt her own anxiety-- borne of weeks knowing Lena was struggling and unable to help, or even be present-- fade away. She could still hardly believe it, even with Lena curled against her side: that Lena Luthor, a woman able to bring a company not only back from the brink, but _ahead_ , after the entire world spent weeks shouting that she couldn’t; that a woman like that could look at Reyna and see something worthwhile, someone to be happy with… Reyna vowed not to overthink it. _Just savor it,_ she told herself _, for as long as it lasts._

Just one day at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cut this purely for rating purposes. I wanted the fic to be available to all ages start to finish-- if I tack it on as an extra with a special disclaimer, it doesn't count, right?


	15. Sneak Peek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is technically a one-off, set after this fic officially ended, but before any potential sequel starts. If pressed, I'd say it's the same Christmas season Lena and Kara agree to try being friends again.

There were worse places to get stuck during a blizzard, Reyna decided. Aspen, Colorado was beautiful, in the sparse minutes they’d seen it on the trip up to the lodge before the weather obliterated the view. Slipping on her shoes and making her way out of the room she shared with Lena (that had a in-room Jacuzzi _and_ firepit, eat your heart out) Reyna couldn’t help but compare the high-end resort to the small ski camp she and some friends had visited in college. That experience had peaked with a clunking van to ferry them all to the ski lift; just arriving in the open, brilliantly lit lobby downstairs had blown it out of the water.

The place was all exposed wooden beams and plush rugs on the floor, and dear god the sheer _size_ of the place was far outside her price range. But the comfort was there, even in the gargantuan quarters assigned to them; Reyna had only meant to rest her eyes for a second when she’d sat on the bed, but when she opened them again the windows were dark and the only sign of Lena was a note left on the pillow next to her.

_Wanted to let you sleep-- meet me in the great room when you’re ready._

_\--- Lena._

So off she went, wandering the empty halls in an attempt to locate her missing girlfriend. She followed the lines of lit sconces on the walls, which seemed to get longer and longer the further she walked, her own footsteps muffled by the rich carpet under her shoes. Only two other families had checked in before the roads closed, and as a result the entire building felt like a prime example for the inevitable reboot of The Shining.

As she walked, Reyna registered the faint sound of music echoing along the corridor, leading her further down the hall. The piano was soft and lilting, delicate and precise-- lighthearted to contrast the horror-movie suspense making Reyna’s heart race a little faster. She remembered seeing a grand piano in the main room where they’d checked in earlier; if she followed the music, she’d find where Lena was waiting.

As she descended the broad spiral stair to the great room, Reyna was surprised to find that the source of the haunted music was Lena herself, seated on the bench of the grand piano. She was the only one there, lit by the fire crackling at one end of the room and the warm glow of the lamps illuminating the empty space.

Reyna paused on the bottom steps, savoring the soft moment she’d walked into. In National City, it was easy to forget Lena’s age. Her armor of business suits and red lipstick gave her hard edges that gave her the appearance of extra years, but the french braid that now lay between her sweatered shoulder blades highlighted her youth, reminding Reyna that her brilliant, relentless girlfriend was under thirty and still soft beneath the hardships she’d endured.

Tucking the moment close to her heart, Reyna descended the final step and slid onto the piano bench next to Lena.

“Hey,” Lena greeted softly, not taking her eyes from the keys. A faint blush tinted her cheeks.

“Hey,” Reyna returned, just as soft. “I had no idea you played.”

Lena hummed, drawing out the final few notes of her tune before withdrawing her hands. She didn’t meet Reyna’s gaze for a long moment, tucking a loose strand of hair self-consciously behind her ear.

“That was beautiful.” Lena’s flush deepened at Reyna’s praise. “How long have you been playing?”

Lena shrugged. “Lessons started as soon as I was adopted,” she said. “They stopped when I went to college, but I kept up the practice as much as I could, until…”

Reyna waited, but Lena didn’t continue. “Until what?”

Lena’s lips pressed together, before she broke into a wide false smile. “They’re about to serve dinner--”

“We’re the only ones here,” Reyna countered, clasping Lena’s hand in hers before she could escape to the dining room. “They’ll wait.”

A beat passed, as Lena sat stiffly beside her. “Lena, I can’t help but feel like you stop yourself from saying things. I can only guess that it’s about your family, and that you’re holding back because of me. You don’t have to, you know that, right?”

For a long moment, Lena didn’t say anything, and the only sound was the pop and crackle of the large fireplace set into the adjacent wall. Then, just as Reyna was going to let it go, Lena’s fingers curled between hers.

“I haven’t played since my brother was arrested,” Lena said softly. “I tell myself that it’s because I don’t have time, that it’s too frivolous, but the truth is… It reminds me too much of him.” She swallowed thickly, the sound loud in Reyna’s ears. “Of being happy with him.”

“Oh.” Reyna swallowed an apology. “You’ve never mentioned him before.”

Lena nodded. “I didn’t know how you would feel about him-- the timing of your move to National City was around the same time he…” She sighed. “I wasn’t sure I _wanted_ to know how you felt. Either you’d hate him and maybe me too, or worse: you’d actually agree with him.”

Reyna bristled. “What have I ever said or done to suggest that I would agree with him?”

“Nothing,” Lena said quickly. “But that’s the thing-- I never expect anyone to tell me that his only true crime was getting caught, but they do.” Lena shrugged. “It was just easier not to mention it. If it never came up--”

“If it never came up,” Reyna supplied, wrapping an arm around Lena’s waist, “there would be a huge part of you I’d never know.”

Lena looked at her, eyes moist in the flickering firelight. Reyna leaned into her shoulder, playfully nudging her in an attempt to dispel the sudden gloom.

“I meant what I said that first morning in your apartment, Lena. I want to understand you. All of you.” She offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Even the parts that you’re afraid might scare others-- even the parts that might scare yourself.”

Green eyes closed, a wry humorless smile curling her lips. “Right.”

Reyna leaned into her. “Lena…”

“I know,” Lena said bitterly. “I’m not my brother.”

“No,” Reyna agreed. “But it’s okay if he’s a part of you. If you want to keep him a part of you.”

Lena turned her gaze to the piano, picking a few low notes from the keys with a single finger. Her features grew heavy with thought, and Reyna waited quietly until she she was ready.

“The thing is,” Lena said slowly, finally, “it doesn’t feel like it is okay. People don’t see the difference between the boy who read Cosmos to his eight year old sister every night before bed and the madman he became. So if I love him for who he was, then they’d think I love who he is now.”

Reyna thought about that for a long moment, reaching out to plunk out a few notes of her own. Nerves made her fingers stiff, even is as she tried to feign confidence. Being warm and toasty on the bench next to Lena helped, and the fact that she hadn’t shut down the conversation yet was encouraging, but Reyna knew one misstep could change that.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked, reluctant to meet Lena’s gaze.

Beside her, Lena hummed, continuing to stroke music from the keys. Unlike Reyna’s hands, Lena’s fingers glided, full of grace even in the simple tune that followed no known pattern. Reyna watched and listened for several long moments before she could gather enough voice to ask her question.

“When will you let your actions speak for themselves?”

The music stopped abruptly as Lena’s fingers stilled, plunging them into silence. Her entire body went rigid, and Reyna immediately wished she’d phrased it differently. She should have waited; they shouldn’t be having this conversation on Christmas Eve. But when else would they? She’d known Lena for eight months, and this was the first she’d mentioned of Lex or her family. She bit back a sigh… and now it would likely be another year before Lena trusted her enough to mention it again.

“ _Excuse me?”_

Reyna took a breath and grit her teeth. No conversation about Lena’s family would ever be easy. If she backed down now, Lena may hide it away forever. Reyna turned on the seat to face her.

“I mean it. When that article on the alien detection device ran, L-Corp’s history was rehashed _ad nauseum_ on every news channel. Even after you took the reins, Luthor Corp and L-Corp both played the field, trying to walk the line of not offending anyone. Maybe then there was some room for question, but now? Every time your back is to the wall, you’ve done the right thing. At what point will that be enough to convince you that you _will_ do the right thing?”

“Lex thought he was doing the right thing,” Lena said, turning her chin sharply towards Reyna. Her eyes glittered angrily in the low light coming from the fireplace and the lamps dotting the room.

Reyna shut her eyes. “That’s not what I meant--”

“No,” Lena snapped. Reyna fought the urge to flinch, and held Lena’s gaze until green eyes softened and looked away. “No, I know what you meant.”

In one corner, the fireplace snapped and hissed as a log broke open, and outside the wind scraped past the roof. The faint howl of the elements reminded Reyna that if she misstepped, more than she already had, it would be a long weekend to spend. But sitting there next to Lena, she felt at home.

“Every day I ask myself that same question,” Lena said. Her quiet voice was little more than a murmur, exhaustion marking her tone more than anger. One shoulder lifted helplessly. “How much do I have to pay for my family’s sins?”

Reyna reached over and took Lena’s hand from the keys, covering it with both of hers. Lena’s fingers remained limp for a moment before curling around Reyna’s palm. She sniffed, but her eyes remained dry.

“I never have an answer. How can I? As soon as I come close to finding one, it feels too much like putting a price tag on a life, and-- I’m not the one who can answer that. Not for one person, and not for the hundreds my brother killed.”

In her heart, Reyna knew Lena was right. There was no price tag either of them could put on the lives lost in Metropolis. The debt wouldn’t be repaid, ever. But maybe one day the world would realize the debt wasn’t Lena’s to repay.

Lena sighed, forcing a smile as she blinked over at Reyna. “I’m sorry. I know that’s probably not the answer you hoped to hear…”

“No,” Reyna stopped her, “please, I shouldn’t have-- I don’t know if there’s a right answer or not. I just know that sooner or later the world is going to realize how good you are. When they stop wondering… I want you to be able to stop wondering too.”

She leaned her head to rest against Lena’s shoulder, gripping her hand tightly. After a moment Lena sighed again, and melted against Reyna’s side, soft and warm as the melancholy faded in the glow of the cosy room. There they sat, until the clink of dishes being served in the dining prompted a long, audible growl from Reyna’s stomach.

“I suppose I don’t need to ask if you’re ready to eat,” Lena teased, reaching out to give Reyna’s belly an affectionate pat. Reyna smiled back, propping her chin on the top of Lena’s shoulder.

“My stomach can wait another few minutes,” she murmured. Lena pulled back, meeting her gaze with a tender look of her own.

“I will never push you to tell me about your family,” Reyna continued softly, “the good or the bad. But I will always, _always_ be ready to listen.” She kissed Lena’s cheek, and felt Lena’s fingers tighten in her palm. “I love you.”

Lena gave her a long, slow smile. “I love you too.” She tilted her head. “And thank you--”

Another loud grumble from Reyna’s stomach cut her off. Reyna groaned, covering her eyes with her free hand as Lena laughed. Like that, the mood was broken.

“The stomach has spoken,” Lena announced, rising to her feet and pulling Reyna along with her. “Let’s go eat.”

“Fine. But when we’re done you’re teaching me how to play Chopsticks.”

* * *

Later that night found Reyna curled up with Lena under a pile of furry blankets next to the firepit in their room. Lena had demurred when asked to continue playing after Chopsticks, instead luring Reyna back to their quarters with promises of s’mores and sweeter, more satisfying treats. She fulfilled both promises, and now, fully sated of both toasted marshmallows and sex, Reyna didn’t ever want to move again.

It wasn’t long before she realized Lena wasn’t quite as liquid as she was. She sensed a familiar tension, and could practically hear the gears whirring in Lena’s head.

“You’re thinking too loud,” she accused, gently prodding Lena’s naked ribs and making her girlfriend squirm. A short swat to her shoulder soon turned to Lena’s fingers combing slowly through Reyna’s hair. As the knots caught against her long fingers and eased, Reyna’s scalp tingled, and long locks brushed against her shoulders, reminding her of her own nudity. Reyna sighed, content and blushing with confidence. Lena had the gift of making her feel alluring, with the simplest of touches.

“Tell me,” Reyna murmured, before she could drift off to sleep.

“I was just thinking about your Christmas gift.”

Reyna lifted her head to flash Lena a knowing smirk. “Pretty sure you just gave me several really _great_ Christmas presents.”

“Orgasms are _not_ Christmas presents,” Lena scolded, niggling her fingernails against the back of Reyna’s neck, making her giggle.

“Okay, okay. Wanna do them now?” Reyna burrowed deeper under the throws when Lena nodded. “You gotta go get them though.”

Lena scoffed. “You’re the one who was missing the weather in Metropolis! ‘The cold never bothered you anyway’ were your exact words, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yeah, but I’m really _really_ comfy right now,” Reyna purred. Despite her protests, Lena gamely rose, wrapping the topmost fur from the pile around her shoulders like a cape. She padded barefoot towards their bags, offering Reyna a lovely view of her bare legs where the rug couldn’t quite reach past her knees. She grabbed a gift bag from her own suitcase, then paused to shoot Reyna an inquisitive glance.

“Big bag, top compartment,” Reyna supplied, propping her chin on one arm as Lena fished out a broad parcel and held it up for approval. “That’s it.”

Lena padded back to Reyna, flashing a happy smile as she slid back into their nest.

“What are you smiling about?” Reyna asked. She latched herself around Lena to bring warmth to the bits that had chilled in the cool of the room. “You don’t have x-ray vision, do you?”

“Do I look Kryptonian to you?” Lena teased, still smiling. She shrugged. “No, I just know what a book feels like.”

Lena snorted. “You would. Nerd.”

“You say nerd like you can’t recite Monet’s entire work list in chronological order.”

“Just open it,” Reyna instructed, dodging the accusation. Lena obeyed, and gave a happy sigh when an ornate leather cover emerged from beneath the wrapping.

Lena ran her fingers over the ornate designs stamped into the hide. “It’s beautiful.”

The thrill of success shot through Reyna. She smiled. “Open it.”

With careful, precise movements, Lena opened the binding, and delicately peeled back the first page until she found the title page. There she read the faded print and froze. “Audubon’s book of american wildflowers?”

Reyna nodded. “It’s a collector’s edition, printed back in the 40’s.”

Oh, she’d looked at the first edition, but the price tag had almost given her a concussion. This one was prettier, anyway, and looked a little less like it would disintegrate in a breeze. It was still an old book though: Reyna could smell the pages from where she lay.

With a smile, she watched Lena’s face carefully. “I’ve had it hidden away in my apartment for months. Do you like it?”

Lena jolted. “Like it? Reyna, I love it! It’s beautiful.” She pulled more pages up with fingers that shook. Her eyes shone in the firelight as she gazed at the pale drawings, and Reyna happily watched her for several minutes before she gave Lena a gentle shove.

“Can I open mine now?”

Lena hummed absently, distracted, before she came back to herself. “Oh! Yes! Of course. Sorry.” She closed the book with care and turned to place it far out of reach of any popping embers. As she turned back around, she brought a small gift bag with her. “Here. It kind of pales by comparison, sorry.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you,” Reyna said. She reached in, fishing through the paper until she pulled out a small box, about the size to hold a pair of earrings.

“Not that one!” Lena said quickly, snatching it away. She reached into the bag herself and pulled out a longer, velveteen box. “Open this first. Sorry, I should have numbered them or something.”

Reyna rolled her eyes, tugging the ribbon free and hinging open the lid to reveal a beautiful bracelet studded with diamonds, each one set in individual platinum links. Reyna gasped, barely able to bring herself to touch it. It probably cost half her yearly salary.

“Lena, this is…” Beautiful, yet tasteful enough she could wear it outside of formal events. She might hesitate to wear it at work, but for dinners out with Lena-- or dinners in-- she could wear it every night if she wanted to. It was too much. “It’s…”

“It’s not much,” Lena said softly. She tucked her chin against Reyna’s neck. “I noticed you don’t really go for chunky jewelry, even when you dress up. I looked at everything they had, but the flashier ones didn’t feel like you. This-- I thought of you immediately. And I thought it would go well with the earrings you wear sometimes, that catch the light. The settings are similar--” Lena cleared her throat, as though suddenly realizing she was rambling. “Do you like it?”

Reyna tried not to swallow her tongue as she responded. “Oh my god, yes! Lena, it’s gorgeous.” She carefully removed it from its satin cushion. “Help me put it on?”

Lena wriggled to work her arms around Reyna’s shoulders until she could work the clasp. As it settled into place around Reyna’s left wrist, Lena’s lips pressed gently on Reyna’s neck. “There,” she murmured.

She turned her wrist, letting the gems catch the firelight. In agonizing what to get Lena, Reyna had inevitably wondered if Lena would turn to jewelry as a gift. Reyna had been trepidatious-- funds weren’t an issue for a Luthor, and it would be so, so easy for Lena to go to the shop (or send an assistant) and simply aim for the biggest price tag. It was one of the reasons she’d gone another route for Lena’s gift, knowing that she could never compete with what Lena could spend.

Reyna’s greatest fear had been that the result would be ostentatious and impossible for her to wear. However much she practiced an expression of delighted surprise, Lena was so perceptive she’d pick up on the pretense immediately, which would have been even worse. But this...

Lena had gone herself, and looked for something with Reyna in mind, using what she knew about Reyna to find the perfect piece. She’d noticed Reyna’s favorite earrings, which she’d only worn for the few special events she’d been to since dating Lena. Her throat caught the longer she stared at the bracelet. She couldn’t imagine when Lena had found the time to go-- even after things with the press and the detection device had settled down, Lena’s schedule had been packed trying to follow through on everything L-Corp had promised. But Lena had gone, and had chosen something absolutely and utterly... _perfect_.

“What do you think?” Reyna asked.

Warm lips pressed against her neck, as Lena’s voice buzzed against her skin. “I think you’re beautiful.”

Despite their activities less than an hour before, a shudder of lusty anticipation ran down Reyna’s spine. She rolled onto one elbow to cup Lena’s face and kiss her deeply. Lena returned it wholeheartedly, the fingers of one hand following the path of that shudder, raising a line of fire down her back. When Reyna pulled up a long moment later, she drew back to take a long look at Lena.

Green eyes gazed at her softly, shining in the firelight. On her back, head tilted slightly as she returned Reyna’s gaze, Lena looked like a cat who’d found the world’s warmest patch of sunlight. Reyna’s heart stuttered in her chest as she stared. She loved this Lena: soft and warm and content-- because of _her_.

Grinning, Reyna leaned down to press a kiss in the hollow of Lena’s throat, then the tip of her chin, then finished with another kiss against her lips. Lena gave a happy squirm under her, tugging lightly on Reyna’s hips. Reyna resisted, giving Lena a quick peck.

“If we start that again, I might forget about the rest of my present,” Reyna told her.

Lena kissed the underside of her jaw, promising to distract her anyway. “It’s nothing, really. It can wait.”

“Hmmmm…” Reyna tilted her head, pretending to consider it seriously. “Nope.”

She rolled away, to Lena’s plaintive whimper, and snagged the smaller earring box from where it had been nearly forgotten on the edge of the blanket. When she returned, Lena’s chest was there to meet her; soft breasts pressed against her back, and long arms wrapped around Reyna’s waist. Under the blankets their skin rapidly grew slick with sweat, but Reyna wouldn’t trade the contact for anything.

“I’m a little nervous to open this after the bracelet,” Reyna confessed, tugging one end of the pretty bow wrapped around the box. Her new jewelry sparkled in the low light. “Just watch it be the keys to a jet or something.”

“Well then, I’m afraid you’ll definitely be disappointed.”

The lid came free, revealing a simple, jagged-toothed key resting on a bed of silver cotton batting. Reyna’s breath caught in her chest. She sat upright, her shock blinding her to the way Lena stiffened, remaining where she was. When Reyna tore her eyes from the key, she found Lena averting her gaze, twisting the ends of her hair with staccato jerks of her fingers. Her pale features had smoothed, completely unreadable save the muscle in her jaw that drew tight with apprehension. Since the moment dinner ended, Lena had sought physical contact with Reyna: shoulders touching on the piano bench, laced fingers and hands that offered the gentlest caresses… but now she pulled her hands in, along with any outward trace of emotion-- bracing herself for the inevitable.

“Lena…” Her voice threatened to give out. Reyna waited a moment, inhaling evenly. When she felt steadier, she tried again. “Is this a key to your apartment?”

Still avoiding her gaze, Lena shrugged a bare shoulder. “It was just an idea.” She cleared her throat. “I probably should have waited; it’s too soon--”

The key dropped from Reyna’s fingers as she turned, planting a kiss on Lena’s mouth. Lena froze for a split second, shocked, before melting into the contact. Her own hands came up to frame Reyna’s neck, thumbs brushing her jaw in a sensual caress. When they parted, Reyna found tears sparkling in Lena’s eyes. Reyna brushed them away just as they began to course down Lena’s temple.

“You make me so happy,” Reyna told her. “I don’t care how soon it is. But-- is this what you want? Because if you want to wait, that’s fine. I’m not going anywhere. Key or no key, I’m in this one hundred percent.”

Lena blinked, dislodging another tear. It tracked a glinting path towards the tip of her ears before Reyna rubbed it away.

Lena’s lips spread in a tremulous smile. “I want to come home to you.”

The confession came low and soft, pouring over Reyna’s senses. Tears sprang to her own eyes, and she gave a watery laugh as she leaned in to pepper Lena with kisses, until she was smiling too much for even that much. She rested her forehead against Lena’s, sighing.

She wanted to smack Lena, recalling the way she’d tried to play the key off as no big deal compared to the bracelet. Little did Lena know, that small piece of metal was more than just a key. It was an open door, an invitation to slide a little further into the private life Lena so closely guarded-- it was affection, more than lust or desire. And that was worth more to Reyna than all the diamonds in the world.

Reyna laughed then, wiping her eyes and pushing the hair from her face.

“What?” Lena asked. Her hand rested lightly against Reyna’s back.

Reyna shook her head. “This has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had, in every way. It’ll be hard to top next year.”

She usually never thought that far ahead. She never assumed she’d hold onto anything that long, and she doubted Lena-- who still jumped at strange sounds and habitually expected the worst-- was any different. But without missing a beat, a grin curled Lena’s pink, swollen lips.

“Challenge accepted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the last two additions didn't redeem me, then this certainly does. A Luthor talk AND momentous gift exchanges?!? Eat your heart out.


End file.
